


Dark Images

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Broken Images [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Delta Quadrant, M/M, Maquis, Mind Control, Voyager
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Broken Images. Originally published on Tom Paris Dorm. Reposted here with some rewrites. AU in that Julian Bashir is accidentally pulled into the delta quadrant along with Voyager and becomes the doctor aboard Voyager. His plans to have Tom for himself result in much chaos and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Haggy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Haggy).



A scream tore the quiet of night, like a knife through satin. Tom bolted up  
in the narrow bunk, breathing hard, ready to fight, or flee as the situation  
demanded. His eyes strained in the darkness trying to see what was going on.

Silence. The tortured sound that had woken him was not repeated, and after a  
few moments, Tom lay down, rubbing his forehead with one hand. One of the  
inmates must have had a nightmare, he surmised, already drifting back to  
sleep.

He rolled to his left side eyes closed, and yawned quietly, his mind already  
more than half immersed in slumber when the sudden blaring of an alert  
klaxon, and the activation of the lights in his cell brought him to sudden  
and complete wakefulness.

"Ah great!" he muttered, hauling himself up off the bunk and moving to stand  
in the centre of the cell. "Terrific time to make a spot check!" He rubbed  
his eyes, ran his hands through his blonde curls, and stood to attention,  
hoping the screws would hurry up. A quick check of his chrono told him there  
were only four and a half hours left to sleep before the daily routine began  
with a tepid shower, followed by a semi digestible breakfast and then he  
would be sent out to work.

He was enjoying the task he had at present, some repairs to a shuttle that  
had been sent in just last week. Nothing too complex, but just being near  
the light vessel gave him something to think about other than his  
imprisonment. In some strange way, the vessel represented freedom to him.

Not that he could take her anywhere even if he wanted to. He glanced down at  
the security cuff on his ankle. He knew that the moment he left the  
programmed parameters of the device, the guards would be alerted and he  
would ruin all his hard work up to date.

In two weeks time, according to the records he kept on a padd, he would have  
been an inmate of Auckland Detention Centre for 3 years.

 _Three years,_ he thought, _and only seventeen more to go, if they don't_  
_give you time off for good behaviour._ He sighed, lifting his gaze to the  
door as it slid open and a guard stepped into the room.

"What's going on?" Tom asked, hardly expecting any answer. These checks  
happened from time to time, and there was seldom any reason given. But he  
was a trusty, and sometimes the guards would tell him things they wouldn't  
say to other inmates.

"Attempted escape." The guard nodded to his companion who stood outside the  
door. "Paris, present." He looked at Tom. "Go back to bed."

Tom lifted his eyebrows, but didn't need to be told a second time. He turned  
and moved to his bunk. He hadn't heard anything about an escape being  
planned. Although such things were usually kept as quiet as possible, most  
of the inmates knew when someone was planning to 'bolt' he decided to try  
and find out in the morning, what had happened. He felt sure it must have  
been unplanned and just a case of someone grasping for an unexpected  
opportunity.

He settled back under the thin blanket and closed his eyes as the guard left  
and the room was again in darkness. Soon, he was sleeping soundly once more.

* * *

The morning dawned bright and clear, typical for New Zealand. Tom had always  
appreciated the different quality to the air here. It seemed as though it  
even tasted sweeter, cleaner than San Francisco. When he had first been  
sent to this colony, he had found himself wondering how this could be seen  
as punishment.

_Wide eyed innocent that I was, I didn't realise it's not the place but_  
_the people._

He left his cell at the same time as the other inmates and marched to the  
communal, open bathroom. He was long since conditioned to this routine, but  
it still made him wince to see the new-chums as they were called in prison  
slang, cringing and cowering under the hard eyed scrutiny of their fellow  
prisoners.

He remembered being the object of that same scrutiny when he arrived.  
Sickened by the catcalls and wolf whistles of the old hands, he was forced  
to take care of his bodily needs, shower and clean his teeth in this  
common-room. _I learned hard and I learned fast, not to turn my back to_  
_anyone in here. Ever._

These days, the others left him pretty much alone, having learned, some of  
them painfully, that Tom was not interested in to put it politely, "a  
relationship" with any of them. He showered, and looked around the room,  
trying to determine if anyone was missing. It didn't take too long.

Sidling up to Col Sudes he spoke quietly. "Where's Delphino?"

"Probably drawing on the walls in solitary," was the muttered reply. "He was  
the rabbit last night. Got spotted, and they gave him a taste of the rod.I'm  
surprised you didn't wake up? He squealed like a lady." Col laughed.

"I heard." Tom frowned. The rod Sudes referred to was the federation's  
equivalent of a Klingon Pain stick. Tom had only been on the receiving end  
of it once, and once had been enough. It worked on the principle of Sonics,  
and though it left no marks afterwards it could deliver the equivalent in  
pain to a solid punch in the kidneys, and that was the area it was most  
commonly applied.

Delphino had only been inside for about a month, and was still 'fresh'  
enough to be considered a novelty by other inmates. Young and fresh faced,  
the man had attracted immediate attention for his good looks.

Prison life had been tough for him, and though Tom had done his best to  
protect the younger man, he couldn't be present 24/7 and the nights had  
surely been torture for Delphino, who had quickly been labelled the  
'community girl.'

Tom sighed, moving towards the door as the screws ordered them all to finish  
up and head for the mess.


	2. Chapter 2

Shuffling into the mess hall with the others, Tom paused a moment when he  
came level with the guard on mess duty. This guard was one of the more  
reasonable men that worked in the facility, and Tom had a request.  
"Sir," he began. "Would it be possible for me to speak with the Warden this  
morning? I have a request."

The guard seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded slightly. "I'll see  
if I can arrange it."

"Thank you, Sir." Tom walked on and took a seat at a table near the head of  
the room. The table where the 'top dog' and his cronies sat for meals, Tom  
had been included as a member of that elite group for the past year.

Sitting at the Top table guaranteed that no one would bother him elsewhere.  
Those who were in the Top Dog's circle were prison royalty and enjoyed a  
level of protection others could only wish for.

Waiting for the servery to open, and the order to collect their trays, Tom  
turned to Col Suder. "I'm going to ask if Delphino can be moved in with me."  
He said softly. "The kid's not going to last another month the way things  
are."

Col nodded, a slight smirk crossing his features. "He's a soft pup, for  
sure. Probably can use a protector." He paused then added. "And it's high  
time you decided to have something to warm your nights."

Tom couldn't hide the blush that stained his cheeks, but he held up both  
hands in mock dismay. "My motives are purely altruistic!" he protested.  
Inwardly though, he had to acknowledge that it went slightly deeper than  
that.

Rudy Delphino was easily the nicest looking man to come through the prison  
in some time, and Tom felt a stirring of something more than mere protective  
instinct. He dismissed the thought for now. "Do you think Malthoqh will let  
him sit with us?"

"Ask him for yourself," Col replied with a speaking glance at the door.

Tom turned to see the aging but still bulky Klingon enter the hall.

Malthoqh stood at least 6'4" tall, with a bulky frame that made the  
federation prison duds look laughable against his size. His forehead was  
deeply ridged with the typical markings of his race, and his hard, black  
eyes swept across the room. No one laughed when Malthoqh walked into a room.  
He was undisputed Top Dog since coming into the prison twelve months ago. A  
position he'd taken after casually breaking his predecessor's neck over  
dinner.

Not many had been foolish enough to challenge him for the position; those  
who had didn't live to regret it.

After pausing in the doorway long enough to satisfy his sense of occasion,  
Malthoqh strode forward to his place at the head of the top table. "Let us  
eat!" he bellowed in true Klingon style. "Why this delay?"

Although it couldn't be said that it was Malthoqh's demand that caused it,  
the servery opened at that moment, and the screw standing to one side of it  
nodded to the members of the top table to indicate they could collect their  
meals.

Tom rose with the others and followed Malthoqh to the counter, where he  
picked up his breakfast tray. The food didn't look too bad this morning and  
it smelled as though there was some meat. His stomach growled in  
anticipation as he moved back to the table. He would have to wait until  
after they ate to ask Matlhoqh about Delphino. Food was something the Top  
Dog took very seriously.

The meal was eaten quickly, conversation kept minimal since the men knew  
they only had limited time to eat before the klaxons would signal the start  
of the work day. Tom glanced at Matlhoqh a few times, waiting for a moment  
to make his request. If he could get Delphino a place at this table that,  
combined with taking the younger man into his own cell, would guarantee the  
young man's safety, even if something were to happen to Tom.

When the Klingon pushed his tray aside, Tom Spoke up. "Malthoqh!"

"What is it, human?" The man turned to look at him, his dark eyes glittering  
with half concealed menace.

"Take it easy, I am not after your place." Tom spoke boldly, knowing the  
Klingon had nothing but contempt for ass lickers.

"Speak then. What does a petaqh like you want with me?"

"A favour. For a friend."

"Do not waste my time, Paris. Make your request and get out of my face."

"I want Delphino to sit at this table." Tom indicated a vacant chair. "We  
have room since Davish left. Answer me!" He met the Top Dog's eyes with  
confidence, something not many others in the prison dared to do, and waited  
while Malthoqh considered.

"Very well." The Klingon said. "But keep your human pet out of my way and  
teach him the proper table manners."

"You honor me." Tom nodded and got to his feet as the klaxon for work  
sounded. Now only the warden remained. Tom was confident he would have  
success there also.


	3. Chapter 3

As Tom walked from the shower, his hips draped with one towel, and using  
another to dry his hair, he became aware of the fact that someone was  
watching him. Looking up, he smiled into the warm dark eyes of Chakotay.

"The shower's free, Cha, if you want it." As he spoke, Tom tossed the towel  
he'd used on his hair into the fresher.

"Do you think I need to?" The Maquis Captain got to his feet and moved to  
take Tom in his arms. "I did bathe this morning."

Tom sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose in mock distaste as he said. "You  
smell." Then seeing the Captain's features darken he added, "nice." and  
laughed softly.

"Oh, do I?" Chakotay gave the towel at Tom's hips a tweak, causing it to  
fall to the floor. "Hey! No fair wearing shorts!"

"Well, I wouldn't want to get an old man like you all worked up with nowhere  
to go," Tom quipped with a chuckle.

"I have some place to go, Flyboy." Chakotay pulled Tom into his arms,  
breathing the fresh, soapy scent of his skin.

"And you always will." Tom nuzzled against the side of Chakotay's neck. "As  
long as you want me."  
He sighed as Chakotay kissed his forehead and made a trail of small kisses  
down the side of his face until their lips met.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you too, big guy, but your crew don't care too much for me."

"My crew have nothing to do with this, Tom." Chakotay groaned, pulling Tom  
closer against him, as the pilot rubbed against his body.

"You have too many clothes on, Cha. How about we get you feeling more  
comfortable?"

With a sigh, Chakotay stepped back, releasing Tom as his hands went to the  
buttons of his shirt, unfastening each one as the Pilot watched his every  
move.

Tom drank in the sight of Chakotay's bare chest as the shirt was slowly  
eased off his shoulders and allowed to fall to the floor. He bit his lip,  
feeling his cock twitch in response to the sight. "So where are we headed  
next, big guy?"

"South. Paris. Definitely south," the captain said, with a speaking glance  
downward.

Slowly, Tom sank to his knees in front of the big Native American. "I always  
liked south," he said, reaching up to unfasten the captain's pants.

"Oh yeah, baby.show me how much you like it."

Stroking the other man's thigh with one hand, Tom released the swollen and  
weeping member from the restraints of clothing. "I love you, Cha." He  
whispered bending his head to take Chakotay's cock in his mouth, sucking  
slowly and gently. _Gods, I love the taste and the scent of him,_ he  
thought, closing his eyes and drawing the twitching member deeper into his  
throat.

"Oh gods!" Chakotay said, his breath coming faster between parted lips.  
"Your mouth feels sooo good!" He gently tangled his fingers in Tom's hair.  
"I need you, baby, I've missed you!" He moaned and began to thrust gently  
into the younger man's mouth.

Feeling the tension mounting in his partner, Tom sucked harder, using his  
arms to steady the shaking man.

"Yes, oh yes.that's good!" Chakotay seemed lost in the pleasure Tom's mouth  
gave him. Eyes closed, his head falling back a little as he thrust deeper  
into Tom's eager mouth. "Yeah, oh yeah. Don't stop, Tom!"

Tom moaned around the organ in his mouth, knowing that it would add to the  
sensation. He sucked with hard, drawing rhythm; his tongue teasing up and  
down the shaft, knowing his lover was close to orgasm.

With a sudden cry of release, Chakotay's entire body went rigid for a moment  
as his climax erupted. He held Tom's hair tightly in his fingers, spurting  
his seed deep into his mouth, shuddering with delight as Tom swallowed  
hungrily. Finally, spent, he dropped to his knees in front of Tom and kissed  
him hard, plunging his tongue into Tom's mouth.

"You taste good," Tom whispered between kisses, "So, so good!"

The only response was a growl of desire, as Chakotay pushed Tom to the  
floor. "Now, Tom!"

Slipping off his shorts, Tom knelt on hands and knees in front of Chakotay,  
his heart pounding with anticipation as he awaited the tender assault of his  
lover. He gasped and arched his back in pleasure as he felt Chakotay's warm,  
wet tongue swirl across the puckered flesh of his anus. At the same time, a  
hand closed around his cock, stroking him slowly. "Gods. Oh gods!"

Chakotay growled softly in answer continuing to gently rim Tom's ass with  
his tongue, never missing a beat with his hand as he stroked Tom's cock  
mercilessly.

"Cha!" Tom gasped "Oh gods, stop teasing and fuck me damn it!"

With a soft, seductive laugh, Chakotay moved, positioning himself behind Tom  
and gently pushing into his lover's body.

Tom felt as though his heart would explode. He groaned loudly. "Yes, oh gods  
yes! Faster, harder, Cha!"

All too soon it was over. Tom cried out as his orgasm exploded through him.  
He whimpered sinking down on the floor as Chakotay spent himself again and  
collapsed heavily with him, pulling him close.

Jarringly and with no warning, the scene changed. Tom found himself sitting  
at the helm of the Liberty. The ship rocked with the force of weapons fire  
and Tom struggled to maintain course, cursing to himself.

"Chakotay, we have lost shields and weapons!" Ayala called from his station  
and Tom shook his head, watching the signal of a Cardassian ship hard on  
their stern.

"I can't shake them, Captain!"

Chakotay swung around in his chair to face the tactical console. "Greg, get  
teams working on repairs! Tom, do the best you can."

Somehow, though he was still flying the ship, Tom watched as though from  
outside himself as an explosion tore out a console and sent the wreckage  
hurtling across the bridge, smashing Greg Ayala into a bulkhead. He saw the  
bright spurt of blood from Greg's mouth, and watched in horror as the  
lifeless body slipped to the floor.

A moment later, a torpedo slammed into the hull of the Liberty, shaking her  
to her core, and almost sending Chakotay flying from the command chair.

"Fuck!" Tom narrowly missed another torpedo by sending the ship into a  
series of rolls, tumbling through space for several seconds before righting  
her with a screeching whine of burned out relays. "I've lost the fore  
stabilisers." He reported, shaking hands frantically fighting the helm for  
control. "Come on, baby. Come on."

Chakotay left his seat to man a vacant and still operational console.  
"Attempting to compensate! B'Elanna life support is offline, see what you  
can do!"

"They're coming again, Captain." Tom's voice was grim as he struggled to  
keep the ship out of the line of fire. "Two of them, off the port side!"

Chakotay shook his head; not looking up as his hands frantically worked the  
console he stood at. Shit! We're not going to make it.she can't take much  
more of this!"

"I _can't_ fucking shake them! I need more power to the engines. Torres, I  
NEED MORE POWER!"

"I am looking at a core breach in 60 seconds," B'Elanna replied. "I can't  
give you what we don't have _star fleet!_

Chakotay closed his eyes. His lips moving in prayer. "Kolopak, help us. We  
need you now!"

"Captain!" Tom left the unresponsive helm. "We have to abandon ship. She's  
doomed!"

The Captain looked up and met Tom's eyes briefly, the struggle evident  
before he nodded. "All hands, man the escape pods. I'll try to draw their  
fire if I can. GO!"

"I won't go without you!" Tom tried to grab the captain by the arm. "Come  
on, Chakotay, this is suicide!"

An explosion tore across the bridge as another torpedo impacted the already  
damaged hull. "I gave you an order Par..." Chakotay broke off in mid  
sentence. His eyes staring ahead with a bewildered expression. He gulped,  
blinked several times then looked down at his body.

Tom followed the Captain's gaze and cried out in horror as he saw the gaping  
wound. "Chakotay! NOOOOOO!"

Bolting upright in his bed, Tom screamed Chakotay's name again, then leaped  
as though struck when a cry of alarm came from the other side of the room.

Delphino, woken by Tom's cries, sat up and huddled into a corner of his  
bunk. "Don't touch me!"

Tom shook his head in confusion, "Who?" he closed his eyes and sighed "It  
was a dream. Just a dream."

"A dream?" Delphino's voice shook with reaction to his sudden awakening.

"I couldn't keep the ship out of range." Tom said. "They all died." He  
looked over at Delphino. "Sorry I woke you. I promise I'm not going to hurt  
you."

"It's all right." Delphino drew a shaky sigh. "Are. Are you ok?"

"It's all my fault."

"Look, it was a dream, right? Dreams are nothing to worry about. It's  
probably that excuse for beef we had for dinner coming back to haunt you.  
Can I get you something? Some water?"

 

With a weak laugh, Tom shook his head. "I like rare steak, honest. And  
Malthoqh seemed to enjoy it. I could use something stronger than water. Don't  
suppose you've got any Scotch on you?"

The remnants of the dream still haunted and Tom gave a small shudder. "It's  
my fault they were lost in the badlands."

Delphino got out of bed, and made his way to Tom's bedside. Holding out a  
small package that he had drawn from under his mattress. "No whisky, sorry.  
But I have some chocolate. I've managed to keep it hidden. Was saving it for  
an emergency."

"Chocolate? How the hell did..." Tom remembered prison etiquette just before  
he blurted the question, and accepted the package with a nod. "Thanks."

"Sure." Delphino sat down on the bed. "Tom, I haven't had a chance yet to  
thank you for all you've done...so, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Tom broke off a piece of chocolate and handed the block  
back. "You might as well have some too. Gods. I'm sorry I gave you a fright.  
I have these terrors at night sometimes. It doesn't help with the Doc  
telling me Chakotay's cell has been out of contact for so long."

"It's not always easy to keep in contact. They're fighting a war, after  
all." Delphino broke a square of chocolate off and put it in his mouth.

"But, the badlands. Of all the places to lose contact. That little Bajoran,  
there is no way he could navigate those storms."

"Look, you're not going to change anything by worrying. Captain Chakotay is  
a clever man. They will make contact when they can."

Tom sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." _I hope you're right._  
He lay down, folding his hands behind his head. "Thanks, Delphino."

"You can call me Rudy."

"Ok. Rudy." Tom nodded and smiled. "We should both try and get some more  
rest. "It will be muster soon enough."


	4. Chapter 4

Chakotay strode into the engineering section of the Val Jean. "Report!" He  
barked. He was in no mood for messing about. This had been one hell of a  
day, and it didn't look like getting any better.

B'Elanna turned from her work to look at the captain. "I wish I could give  
you some good news," she said, "As it stands, there isn't much of that to be  
found around here. This fuel line is shot...if I can't get some replacement  
parts soon, I don't know what I will do. Weapons are still off line. In a  
nutshell, we're a sitting target for the next Cardassian ship that happens  
by."

"The Cardassians are the least of our problems right now. They're nowhere  
in sight. You're going to have to get creative, B'Elanna, we don't look like  
getting any spare parts for a while." Chakotay passed a hand across his  
forehead as he spoke. This was just one more headache amongst a dozen  
headaches he had to contend with in the few hours since the ship was hit by  
a displacement wave in the Alpha Quadrant. Now, here they were, dead in  
space, with no clear idea of where they were.

"Get creative!" B'Elanna snapped. "Is that the best you can tell me?" her  
dark eyes snapped sparks of outrage. "You drag us all into a damned fight  
with that Cardassian ship, when you knew we were outclassed. You make that  
damn fool dive for a plasma storm, when you were perfectly well aware that  
we didn't have the power available...and then...then..." She trailed off,  
turning her back to the Captain with a flounce of her hair. "Dammit,  
Chakotay! Just how creative do you think one person can BE?"

Chakotay drew a deep breath and let it go slowly. He couldn't blame B'Elanna  
for yelling at him. He had acted irresponsibly, and it was time he  
acknowledged it. "You're right," he said. "I acted thoughtlessly, and this  
situation is my sole responsibility." He paused as the half-Klingon turned  
to stare at him in silence. "But that doesn't discount the fact, that we  
have to pull together to get out of this. I'm sorry that circumstances are  
less than ideal, but you're my engineer, and it is your job to get this ship  
up to speed."

Torres regarded him in silence for several moments; her dark eyes reflecting  
the internal conflict that he knew must be going on. Finally she pursed her  
lips and nodded slightly, turning back to the mess of fried relays she'd  
been working on. "I'm on it," she said by way of capitulation.

_OK, first hurdle,_ Chakotay thought as he left Engineering. His next  
scheduled stop was sick bay. Although their casualties had been light,  
Chakotay was still concerned that any of his crew were injured. Only one  
crewmember had been killed in the sudden shift in space that had occurred,  
even now, those who were able to work were assigned the task of working out  
exactly where they were. With sensors knocked offline, that had become their  
first priority after the wave.

As he entered the sickbay, Chakotay had to pause and take a breath. The air  
was thick with the smell of blood, smoke and vomit. He squared his  
shoulders, walked forward to where Ayala worked to repair a fractured  
arm on one of the younger crewmembers.

"Mike..." Chakotay put a hand on his first officer's shoulder.

The man looked up from his work with a small nod. His face showed the lines  
of stress as he returned to his work. "Chakotay."

For some inexplicable reason, Chakotay felt the need to apologise. "I'm  
sorry." He said softly.

"Sorry for what?" Ayala scanned the arm he'd been working on, nodded and then  
administered a mild sedative to the man. "Get some rest," he said before  
moving on to the next patient.

Chakotay followed him. "Take your pick. Most of what's happening here, I am  
responsible for."

"Oh then you're sorry that Mulroy is dead," Ayala said. "You're sorry, that  
Gerron has a concussion, that Joannes cracked three ribs...that we have NO  
qualified medic here...that we..."

"All of that, and more." Chakotay leaned against the only vacant  
biobed in the sickbay and allowed his shoulders to droop. Gods, he was  
tired. He had not even had time to process any of what had happened, in the  
past few hours. Think time was scarce and he knew it would be a long time  
before he got any of that precious commodity. He sighed. "There's nothing I  
can say, that will change any of this. I know that. All I can do is  
ask you to keep working. We're going to get out of this, somehow."

"Of course we are." Ayala laid down the dermal regenerator, and looked his  
Captain squarely in the eyes. "I've never doubted it." His voice held just  
the barest tinge of sarcasm. "Now if you'll excuse me, Captain...I have my  
work cut out for me."

Seeing there was nothing else he could say or do to bring Ayala around,  
Chakotay moved towards the exit stopping here and there to offer a word or  
two to the injured. Inside, he felt a growing ball of despair that he  
concentrated hard at pushing down. Now was not the time to give in to such  
things. Too much was at stake.

* * *

On the bridge, Seska paced and fumed, glaring at the stoic Vulcan who worked  
silently at the operations console. She clenched and unclenched her fists,  
grinding her teeth to keep from shouting at him. She'd tried that already  
and it resulted in nothing more than a raised eyebrow, and the flat  
observation that humans' lack of patience and logic had always fascinated  
him.

She sighed, suppressing the urge to push him aside and pound on the console  
to vent her growing frustration. Turning away from his imperturbable face,  
she moved to the helm, where Gerron, his face showing signs of the recent  
regeneration of a contusion, busied himself with recalibrating the newly  
repaired relays. "Any progress?"

As soon as we have impulse engines on line, I will be able to test it  
properly," he replied, "but I think it is going to work." He smiled  
slightly. "These components are at least 6 years later than what we had on  
the Liberty. And much easier to repair."

"Good." Seska patted him on the shoulder. _Now if that Klingon bitch will_  
 _just get off her ass and get the engines on line we can get the hell out of_  
 _here. I am late calling in...of all the miserable failures! Evek had better_  
 _have a damned good explanation for this. We were so *close!*_

"I have short range sensors on line." Tuvok spoke from his station.

"Excellent!" Forcing a smile, Seska made her way to ops. "What readings?"

"Readings are inconclusive without long range sensors. However, I can tell  
you that the region of space we are in, is not charted."

"Not charted?" This time Seska did push the Vulcan aside. "What the hell do  
you mean, 'not charted?'" She made a few quick scans for herself, and  
frowned. "That can't be! Something's wrong with them."

"Short range sensors are functioning within specified parameters." Tuvok  
replied. "Once I have repaired the long range sensors, I will be in a better  
position to plot our location."

"Then what the hell are you wasting my time for?" Seska moved aside and  
waved him to the console. "Get them on line!"

"Indeed." The Vulcan seemed to dismiss her from his mind as he set to work.

* * *

**Alpha Quadrant**   
**USS Voyager**   
**Captain's Ready Room**   
**6 Days Later**

Captain Kathryn Janeway leaned back in her chair, sipping from a mug of  
coffee as she stared at the communications screen, willing it to activate.  
 _Come on, Tuvok...what is keeping you?_

She sighed, set down the mug and got to her feet. _This is the second check_  
 _in you've missed in six days. What's happened? Why haven't you called in?_  
Her soft blue eyes scanned the stars outside her view port as though, they,  
somehow held the answer.

When the comms screen chimed to let her know there was an incoming message,  
the captain pounced on it, hitting the button and slipping into her chair in  
the same motion. Expecting the face of her chief security officer to appear,  
her smile wavered when not Tuvok, but a Starfleet Admiral flickered to life  
on the screen.

"Admiral Valsa." Janeway frowned, not liking the expression on the Admiral's  
face. "How can I help you?"

"We've just had word from the Cardassians regarding Gul Evek and the ship  
that was sent to 'apprehend' the Maquis, Chakotay and his crew."

"And?" Janeway leaned forward, her eyes searching Valsa's face  
carefully."

"I am afraid it is not the news we hoped for, Captain." Valsa pressed a  
button on his desk. "I'll replay you the vid."

Watching the screen, Janeway, saw the face of Gul Evek, the Cardassian  
commander who had been a part of the plan to finally pin down Chakotay and  
his cronies. She leaned back, listening to the report."

"We followed the Val Jean into the badlands. The ship was practically  
disabled, and we were confident of capturing it." Evek paused. "However,  
there was some kind of disturbance in the storm fields. We do not know if it  
was some kind of weapon the Maquis deployed, but it coincided with the  
release of several torpedoes from their ship. We were forced to retreat. Our  
ship was too damaged to risk further engagement. We scanned the area for  
three days before returning to base. We found no wreckage, or survivors."

"Impossible." Janeway leaned forward and met Valsa's eyes as the screen  
returned to the Admiral. "Request permission to go and conduct my own  
search. I have a valuable officer under cover with that cell, and I want to  
be absolutely certain he is lost, before I simply give him up."

"Of course," Valsa nodded. "The Federation is also interested in determining  
the status of the renegade Chakotay."

"Thank you Admiral." Kathryn reached for the button to terminate the call,  
"Janeway out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter draws some dialogue from episode 1 of Voyager. I have kept it as minimal as possible, but it is there.

Walking along the promenade, Tom sighed as he looked around, recalling the  
last time he had walked these same decks, flanked by security officers and  
wearing restraints. It seemed strange that he was now permitted to come and  
go freely, no Constable Odo watching his every move.

Tom still couldn't quite believe he was a free man. Well free as long as he  
reported promptly to Captain Janeway at least. He recalled the conversation  
with her at the Auckland Prison Settlement, just a few days ago.

It had surprised him, to see a fleet uniform approaching him after all this  
time. Earlier in his prison days, there had been many visitors from Star  
Fleet. Julian Bashir, Jean Luc Picard, one or two of his former academy  
instructors; all tried to convince him to change his mind. He hadn't budged  
and in the end, they stopped coming.

Now, three years later, a Star Fleet Captain stood in front of him.

"Tom Paris?"

"That depends on who's asking." He hadn't looked up, hadn't needed to. He  
gathered all the information he needed about her appearance and rank before  
she even reached him.

"Kathryn Janeway, I served with your father on the El Betani. I wonder if we  
could go somewhere to talk?"

"About what?" Tom narrowed his eyes; all his attention focussed on the sonic  
wrench he was using to recalibrate the navigational sensors of the shuttle  
he'd been repairing for the past week.

"About a job we would like you to do for us."

_A job...for Star Fleet?_ At this, he did glance up at her, gaining a  
fleeting impression of keen blue eyes, and a sharply intelligent face. "I'm  
already doing a job...for the federation." His statement took in the prison  
facility and the work he was doing on the shuttle.

"I've been told the Rehab Commission is very pleased with your work. They've  
given me their approval to discuss this matter with you."

Tom raised an eyebrow. This was tantamount to receiving an order to  
cooperate. He set the wrench aside and stood up. "Well then, I guess I'm  
yours."

"Your father taught me a great deal. I was his science officer during the  
Orias expedition." Her tone reflected deep respect and she cast him a glance  
that, to his surprise seemed to include Tom in that same warm regard. He  
frowned, not knowing quite what to make of it, then brushed it off. "You  
must be good. My father only accepts the best and the brightest."

"I'm leaving on a mission to find a Maquis ship that disappeared in the  
badlands a week ago." She suddenly cut to the chase, and Tom smiled to  
himself, he had to admit, he was impatient with people who beat around the  
bush.

_So that's it. They want me to help them find Chakotay._ He didn't say it,  
but decided to play innocent, it might gain him further information about  
this Captain, and her mission. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Really?"

"I've never seen a federation ship that could manoeuvre through those plasma  
storms." Tom said.

He watched her face carefully, but she was good, hardly a flicker of emotion  
showed in her features as she processed his words, then, her face took on a  
soft glow as she remarked softly. "You haven't seen Voyager." She paused a  
moment. "We'd like you to come along."

"You'd like me to lead you to my former colleagues," Tom corrected, he saw  
no need to keep up the pretence any longer. "I was only with the Maquis a  
few weeks before I was captured. I don't know where most of their hiding  
places are."

"You know the territory better than anyone we've got."

Tom had to credit that. He didn't think many Star Fleet personnel would know  
the badlands. Most of them were taught from first year academy to avoid the  
storm fields like the plague. Star Fleet Command was not keen on sending  
ships and personnel into sure-fire disaster. _So, Chakotay, you must have_  
 _made yourself pretty damned important to them, if they will risk a ship_  
 _going in there after you._

Tom paused a moment, at that thought. It didn't add up. They could wait for  
the Maquis to return from their hideout, play the proverbial cat and mouse  
game. Just a matter of having some patrols along the edge of the storm  
fields and when the Ventura showed its nose, pounce. He looked into Janeway's   
eyes. "What's so important about this particular Maquis ship?"

Janeway gave a small nod, obviously noting the thought process that had gone  
into the question. She sighed as she replied. "My chief of security is on  
board. Undercover. He was supposed to report in twice during the last six  
days. He didn't."

"Maybe it's just your chief of security who's disappeared." It was possible.  
If he'd been found out, the Maquis would not waste any time in dealing with  
him. Traitors didn't receive the kind of leniency that the Federation dealt  
out.

"Maybe." Janeway conceded. "That ship was under the command of another  
former Star Fleet Officer named Chakotay. I understand you knew him."

"That's right."

"The two of you didn't get along too well, I'm told."

She was good, she was very good. Obviously she'd done her homework. That  
didn't negate the fact though, that she was asking him to risk his life in  
betraying the Maquis Captain to her. He needed a very good reason to take  
such a risk, IF he took it. Another idea began to formulate in Tom's mind.

_This could be the chance I have been praying for. If I help her find him, I_  
 _may be able to talk to him...explain that it wasn't me who betrayed them._  
 _Tell him about Tuvok._  
He looked at the Captain and nodded. "Chakotay will tell you he left Star  
Fleet on principle to defend his home colony from the Cardassians. I, on the  
other hand, was forced to resign..." _Let her think that we didn't get_  
 _along, don't let her know the truth...play her game as long as it suits_  
 _you._

"He considered me a mercenary willing to fight for anyone who would pay my  
bar bills. Trouble is, he was right. I have no problem in leading you to my  
former "friends" in the Maquis, Captain. All I need to know from you is What's in it for me?"

"You help us find that ship, we help you at your next outmeet review."

So that was it. Here he was a free man, on Deep Space Nine, waiting to  
rendezvous with the ship that would take him back to Chakotay. As for what  
he planned to do once they found the Maquis Captain, he hadn't given it much  
thought. Tom sighed. He would think of something. He would have to. All he  
knew was that he couldn't bear the thought of letting Chakotay believe that  
he had sold them out.

"Tom!" He stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice.

"Dammit..." Tom turned to face Julian Bashir. "I told you I never wanted you  
to speak to me again, Julian. What part of never do you not understand?"

"Oh come on, Tom. That was years ago." Julian seemed to completely ignore  
Tom's closed posture. "I made a mistake. An error of judgement, didn't you  
get my letters?"

"I was given them." Tom folded his arms across his chest. "I didn't bother  
to read them. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"I heard you decided to help Star Fleet capture Chakotay. It's about time  
you came to your senses."

"Yeah, the noble Tom Paris...riding out to commit yet another act of  
treachery...you know what makes me laugh? When I betrayed Star Fleet, I was  
branded a criminal, and now, I am doing _exactly_ the same thing, but I am a  
hero." He turned away. "If you'll excuse me, I have a ship to catch."

"Tom, wait...please just give me a moment..." Julian laid a hand on Tom's  
arm to restrain him.

"Take your hands off me, Doctor. I don't want to have to file an assault  
charge against you."

Julian sighed and let him go. "All right, just...Tom, just promise me one  
thing. Meet me in Quarks before you ship out? I know I don't deserve any  
second...or third chances, but just give me time to explain? I'm off duty in  
half an hour, please."

"Don't beg, Julian, it's not becoming of you." Tom shook his head. "I'll  
think about it."

Walking away, Tom let his breath out with a small sigh, and allowed his  
tense posture to relax. He had no intention of meeting Julian in Quarks, or  
anywhere else. He just wanted to get aboard Voyager, and get out of DS9.

As he continued along the promenade, the sound of raised voices attracted  
his attention to Quarks. Slowing his steps, he paused in a doorway to see  
what was going on.

At the bar, a young and green looking Ensign in the gold uniform of star  
fleet technical and security personnel, was pinned down by the indignant  
stare of the Ferengi Bar Tender, Quark. Tom leaned against the doorframe,  
listening to the exchange. This could be amusing.

"Here I am, trying to be a cordial host, knowing how much a young officer's  
parents would appreciate a token of his love on the eve of a dangerous  
mission. And what do I get for my trouble? Scurrilous insults. Well,  
somebody's gonna hear about this. What's your name, son? " Quark leaned over  
the bar and locked eyes with the obviously nervous ensign.

"Uh M-my name?" The Ensign squirmed uncomfortably.

Open on the counter top between them, lay a box containing several chips of  
a common crystal. Tom smirked, enjoying the tactics that Quark was using.  
 _He coulda taught me some things about hustling._

"You have one, I presume?" Quark kept up the pressure, no doubt assured of  
selling whatever bit of foolery he had to offer, at a more than fair price.  
Tom couldn't suppress a small chuckle, watching as the young officer  
fidgeted in his seat.

"Kim. Harry Kim, but I..."

"And who was it at the Academy that warned you about Ferengi?" Quark drove  
the stake deeper, closing in for the kill.

"You know. I think a memento for my parents would be a great idea!"

Star fleet was grasping for any straw now to get him off the hook, and Tom  
was fighting hard not to give in to the convulsions of laughter that  
threatened. _Gods that kid is greener than grass!_ He pushed away from the  
doorframe approaching the two men at the bar as Quark huffed:

"They're not for sale. Now inform your commanding officer that the  
Federation Council can expect an official query..."

"How much for the entire tray?" Kim was sweating now, and obviously wishing  
himself anywhere else but in this bar. Tom decided it was time to intervene  
before the kid lost his first months salary for a cheap box of trinkets.

"Cash or Credit?" Quark asked, reaching for a calculator.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Tom smoothly cut in on the conversation. "As  
bright as a Kolodan diamond."

"Brighter!" Quark quipped, quickly returning his attention to the young  
Ensign, finger poised to total up the price.

"Hard to believe you can find them on any planet in the system." Tom picked  
up one of the stones and turned it over in his fingers.

"That's an exaggeration." Sensing the imminent loss of the sale, Quark  
snatched the stone out of Tom's hand and placed it back in the box.

"You know there's a shop at the Volnar Colony that sells a box of assorted  
shapes for one Cardassian Lek. How much are you selling these for?"

Quark glared at Tom, then turned to Kim. "We were just about to negotiate  
the price. He leaned over the bar, meeting Kim's eyes again. "Now."

Tom put a hand on Harry Kim's shoulder. "Come on." He urged the young man to  
his feet and propelled him out of the bar.

"Thanks." Harry said as they walked into the corridor.

Tom Chuckled. Didn't they warn you about Ferengi at the academy?" he laughed  
at the pained expression of his companion. "You shipping out tonight?"

"Yeah. My first mission." Harry smiled, and thanks to you, I might even get  
to enjoy my first pay check."

"Me too." Tom smiled, suddenly finding he liked this greenskin. "What ship?"

"Voyager. We're headed..."

"Into the badlands to look for a Maquis ship." Tom finished the sentence.

"Yeah!" Harry looked surprised, and Tom put out a hand. "Tom Paris," He said  
by way of introduction. "Looks like we're gonna be shipmates."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that I am a little behind schedule posting this chapter. Had a busy day Friday and just didn't get to this.

Tom walked along the hallway of his new home, holding a padd in one hand,  
which displayed a map of the deck he was on. As he walked, he checked the  
padd again. "Deck 3 21G..." glancing up, he cross-referenced, looking for  
the door with that code displayed. He'd reported to the captain prior to  
their departure, and been assigned his quarters, now all he had to do was  
locate the cabin.

Scratching his head, Tom frowned. "It has to be along here somewhere." So  
preoccupied with his own thoughts, he was not paying attention to where he  
walked, Tom was taken by surprise when he collided head on with another  
officer.

"Sorry." Tom bent to retrieve the padd, which had fallen to the floor.  
"Should be looking where I am going."

"No problem," a feminine voice answered. "Is there something I can help you  
with?"

As he looked up, Tom blinked; thinking the bump must have been harder than  
he realized. He was seeing double. _But if I have to see double, at least I_  
_chose a nice looking girl to test it on..._

As he remained silent, one of the images chuckled and held out a hand. "I'm  
Megan. Megan Delaney, and this is my sister, Jenny." She indicated the other  
woman.

"Oh uh... Tom," Tom said, shaking her hand. "Tom Paris."

"Hi." Jenny offered her hand as well. "You seem a little lost?" She  
indicated the PADD in his hand.

"Yeah, I am looking for my quarters. 21G?"

Jenny and Megan nodded. "It's just along this hall," Jenny said. "About  
three doors down on the right."

"Thanks." Tom favoured them with his most brilliant smile. "Nice to meet  
you." He started walking backwards, still unable to take his eyes off the  
dazzling twins. "I hope I'll see you again soon."

Megan giggled. "Very likely. We're neighbours after all."

"Great." Tom decided he'd better start looking in the direction he was  
going, before he collided with someone less forgiving than the Delaneys. He  
turned and headed for his quarters, uttering a quiet, "Whew!" to himself as he  
went.

Locating the cabin, Tom entered the code he'd been given and the door slid  
open to admit him. He found his duffle bag already awaiting him, having been  
beamed in after he boarded.

He set about unpacking, and spent a pleasant half-hour setting things in  
order. He didn't have much, a few books, the model of the Pandora, which had  
been kept in storage for him, while he was in prison, and a collection of  
20th century music on a computer chip. He slotted the chip into the  
entertainment console and asked the computer to play it.

Smiling, Tom looked around. For the first time in three long years, he had  
quarters that were his own personal space. He still couldn't believe he was  
here, free, and able to please himself.

Moving to the replicator, he hesitated in the process of ordering something  
to eat, and then decided he preferred to go to the mess hall. _Old habits_  
_die hard,_ he thought, still unaccustomed to too much time alone.

He took the precaution of changing the security code on his door to  
something more personalised then headed out, whistling a quiet tune as he  
walked. He may not be allowed to sit at the helm of this sleek, tidy ship,  
but he had to admit, he felt a lifting of his spirits just to be aboard her,  
and underway.

"You're sounding cheerful..." the voice spoke quietly from a doorway and Tom  
froze in his tracks. There was something unpleasantly familiar about it;  
Something that caused a small chill to run the length of Tom's spine. He  
turned to face the man who had spoken, only to find himself quickly shoved  
against a bulkhead.

"What do you want?" Tom asked, every nerve ending tensed ready to fight or  
run, whichever presented opportunity first.

"Oh, just a little word in your ear, Thomas." Lieutenant Cavit said, leaning  
in close, but at the same time letting Tom see the two other officers who  
flanked him.

Tom swallowed hard, remembering the last time he had heard this man's voice,  
so long ago it seemed now. The day he was cashiered from Star Fleet. That  
time, he hadn't seen Cavit's face, only felt the fists pounding him  
mercilessly, slamming his head into a wall, and feet kicking him in the  
ribs, as Cavit said: "Think yourself lucky I don't fucking kill you."

Taking a deep breath, Tom straightened a little, determined not to cower. "  
Look, I don't want any trouble..." he began.

"Oh there won't be any 'trouble' Thomas, as long as you're a good boy and do  
as I say." Cavit leaned in closer, pressing Tom against the wall. "You and I  
shall make time to get to know each other."

"It's always been your way...sneak around behind people's backs...corner an  
unarmed man in a back alley." Tom looked into Cavit's eyes defiantly. "Don't  
think I don't know who you are, Lieutenant Cavit. I didn't know your name  
til now. But I know your voice. I could go to the authorities. Assault is a  
serious offence...even assault against a cashiered nothing like me."

"And just who is going to listen to a disgraced jail bird like you Paris?  
Janeway? I don't think so...she is too wrapped up in proving to the  
federation that she can captain this ship. I'm going to enjoy having you  
'round, Thomas...we are going to really get to spend a lot of time  
together."

"Don't call me Thomas." Tom had always hated to be addressed by the long  
version of his name. It brought back unpleasant memories of his childhood  
when his father used it to reprimand him for any misdemeanour. It made him  
feel small. "And I won't be spending any time with you, or anyone else. My  
job is to observe. You don't command me. I answer to the  
Captain...Lieutenant." He moved to brush past Cavit. "If you'll excuse me."

Cavit quickly moved to block Tom's path. "Now Now, young Thomas, no need for  
you to be in a rush."

"Back off, Cavit. I'm warning you."

Cavit nodded to the two men flanking Tom. Pressing against the younger man  
as the two officers grabbed him in an arm lock. "You're all alone, Paris.  
None of your Maquis friends, or your daddy's lackeys here to protect you  
now, huh?" He slid his hand down the blonde man's body and grabbed Tom's  
balls in a vice like grip. "Your ass is mine if and when I want it...any  
place any time...understand, jail bird?" He let Tom go and gestured for the  
officers to release Paris. "Now go run along to see the captain,  
Thomas...you don't want to be late."

"Screw you, asshole." Tom pushed past Cavit, then spied a familiar figure  
walking along the hallway. "Jenny! hey!" He hurried to catch her up. "Look,  
I'll owe you one big time, if you just walk with me to the end of this  
hallway."

"Sure, Tom..." Jenny Delaney smiled. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything is fine. I just... I had to find some way to get a moment alone  
with you." Tom smiled, his eyes twinkling mischieviously. "Would you like to  
join me for drinks after work?"

Jenny blushed prettily and offered Tom a smile. "I would love to Tom but I  
have a systems check to run on the port stabilisers. Maybe some other time?"

"Just say the word, babe. I'll be waiting." With a wink Tom stepped into the  
turbo lift, mouthing silently: "Thanks!"

~~*~~

_I cannot believe he left without even saying goodbye!_ Julian Bashir,  
stormed along the promenade towards a lift that would take him below decks.  
He was fuming to think that Tom had shipped out on Voyager without so much  
as a commed goodbye. He ground his teeth as he walked. _I deserve slightly_  
_better treatment than this. I did a lot for him, and at no small personal_  
_cost! I just cannot believe he can be so god damned cavalier!_

Boarding the lift, he commanded it to the docking ring. Not really conscious  
of his actions, he rode down in the lift, muttering to himself about rank  
ingratitude and plain rudeness. _I am going to do something about it, this_  
_time. It's about time that Tom Paris was made to learn some manners._

Julian made his way quickly to a small runabout that was moored on the  
docking ring. He knew what he was about to do was a serious breach of  
protocol and probably a failure to heed a general directive, but there was  
no way he would allow Tom to leave without confronting him over his  
behaviour.

~~*~~

Sitting in the mess hall, Harry Kim took the last few bites of food from his  
lunch tray and pulled a PADD towards him, activating it and continuing to  
work on a letter he was writing to his parents.

_We shipped out about an hour ago. My first shift is going OK. I'm a little_  
_nervous, but mom, don't worry. I have met the captain and some of my crew_  
_mates, they seem like a good bunch..._ Harry smiled slightly as he wrote,  
imagining his mother's dark head bent over the padd, her fingers following  
the lines of text as she read. He was going to miss her wise and gentle  
presence, but at least he would be able to keep in touch through regular  
mail. He didn't notice when Lieutenant Cavit and the Chief Medical Officer  
entered the mess hall and walked towards him.

"There he is there..." Cavit drew the doctor aside. "Are you sure you saw  
him and Paris spending time in Quarks bar together, doc?"

Oblivious to anyone else in the room, Harry continued to write. _There's_  
_this one guy...Tom. He seems really great. He saved me from making a big_  
_mistake. You would have laughed, dad, imagine me being hoodwinked by a_  
_Ferengi, see it all started when I went into a bar on DS9..._

When the doctor nodded, Cavit moved to Harry's table, pulling out a chair,  
which he straddled. "Hi, Ensign Kim, isn't it?"

Looking up from his letter, Harry jumped to his feet. "Yessir!" he looked  
from Cavit, to the doctor who had moved to the table as well. Unsure whether  
he should offer to shake hands, or stand at attention, Harry fidgeted  
nervously and Cavit laughed.

"Relax, Ensign. I don't bite."

Harry slowly resumed his seat as the doctor moved to sit opposite him.

"We heard you had a little trouble on Deep Space Nine, Ensign." Cavit said  
softly.

_Oh no! They found out!_ Harry cleared his throat. "Yessir. But I didn't  
mean to cause any trouble, sir, I...I'm willing to make a formal apology to  
Mr Quark."

"He's not to be trusted, Mr Kim. You'd do better to keep right away from  
such a person."

"Oh no, sir! I'm sure he's fine! I mean there's no way he'd be permitted to  
have a business on a Star Fleet Station if there was any reason to think..."

"We're not talking about that stupid little Ferengi, Mr Kim! I'm referring  
to the jailbird you were seen with..."

"What? Jailbird, sir?" Harry frowned, his confusion evident.

"Yes, an ex federation pilot. Tom Paris is his name. He killed his crewmates  
then blamed the incident on the dead, knowing they couldn't defend  
themselves."

_So that's what he meant._ Harry recalled his conversation with Tom shortly  
after they boarded Voyager.

Their reception in sick bay when they reported to the CMO had been somewhat  
less than warm. Especially for Tom, whom the doctor had regarded with cold  
dislike from the moment he introduced himself. Harry had asked Tom what the  
doctor meant by a comment about Caldik Prime, but Tom had brushed it off.

"It's a long story, Harry, and I am tired of telling it. I'm sure someone  
around here will fill you in before long."

Shaking his head, Harry looked at Cavit. "I don't believe it!"

"I was there when they brought in his dead crewmates, Ensign," the doctor  
said.

"Believe it, Harry." Cavit said, "That's not all though. The very day after  
we buried his dead 'friends' Mr Paris signed up with the Maquis. God knows  
how many innocent Federation  
crews he has helped to kill!"

"You'll stay away from him, Ensign, if you know what's good for you." The  
doctor stepped in, and Harry was reminded of tag teams in a wrestling match  
for a moment. He frowned. He didn't like the tone this conversation was  
taking.

"That's right," Cavit smiled, it was not a pleasant expression. "We would  
hate to see any black marks appearing against the name of such an exemplary  
young officer. You show great promise, Mr Kim. Be sensible about this, hmm?"

Harry swallowed hard, and looked towards the doors just as they opened to  
admit Tom Paris. He watched as Tom moved to the replicator, then turned to  
Cavit. "I'll take that on board, Sir."

"Very good, Ensign." Cavit stood up and tapped the doctor on the shoulder as  
Tom approached the table carrying a bowl of soup. "I don't see any need to  
disturb Mr Kim's lunch any longer."

Easing his tall frame into a chair as Cavit and the doctor left, Tom smiled  
slightly. "See, I told you it wouldn't take long," he said easily.

"Is it true?" Harry was still watching the other two men as they walked to  
another table and sat down.

"Was the accident my fault? Yes. Pilot error. But it took me a while to  
admit it." Tom took a mouthful of soup and then pushed the bowl away with a  
look of distaste. "Aw, fourteen varieties and they can't even get plain  
tomato soup right."

"They said you falsified reports."

"That's right."

"Why?"

"What's it matter? I lied." Tom glanced around the room, noting the  
hostile glances shot his way by several officers who would not have given  
him a second look earlier. _Wow, looks like the welcome wagon has been out_  
_in force. _He cast Cavit a look then turned back to Harry.__

"But then you came forward and admitted that it was your fault?" Harry was  
obviously having trouble understanding why Tom would do that, after  
seemingly getting away with the deception. 

"I'll tell you the truth, Harry. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and  
I was home free. But I couldn't. The ghosts of those three dead officers  
came to me in the middle of the night and taught me the true meaning of  
Christmas. So I confessed. Worst mistake I ever made but not my last. After  
they cashiered me out of Star Fleet, I went out looking for a fight and  
found the Maquis. And on my first assignment, I was caught." 

"It must have been especially tough for you, being the son of an admiral." 

"Frankly, I think it was tougher on my father than it was on me. Look, I  
know those guys told you to stay away from me. And you know what? You ought  
to listen to 'em. I'm not exactly a good luck charm." Tom idly stirred his  
soup with the spoon, not really interested in eating it, but he needed  
something to occupy his hands. 

"I don't need anyone to choose my friends for me," Harry said softly. 

Tom stared at him for a moment. _I knew there was a reason I liked this_  
_kid,_ he thought and was about to answer when his com badge chirped. 

__*Janeway to Paris.*_ _

"Go ahead." Tom listened as the Captain's voice came back over the com link. 

__*Report to the Bridge. We're approaching the Badlands.*_ _

"On my way, Captain." Tom stood and headed for the door, noticing that Cavit  
was doing the same, he slowed his steps a little, not wanting to clash with  
the first officer again before he reached the bridge. 

Getting to his feet, Harry Kim quickly caught up with Tom. "That's me too.  
My lunch break is over." He clapped Tom on the shoulder as they passed  
Cavit. "Time to get this job done, Tom!" 


	7. Chapter 7

Groaning in pain, Tom struggled to his knees, rubbing the back of his head  
with one hand as he tried to work out what the hell hit him. At first he  
couldn't hear or see properly but as his senses cleared, he realized that  
part of the problem was that the bridge lights were out. Shaking his head,  
he stumbled to his feet, as sounds of pandemonium broke out around him.

Groans of pain, mingled with the sharp staccato commands of the captain, and  
voices edged with tension responding to her demands for reports.

"Paris, how's Stadi?"

Tom raised his head, realizing that the Betazoid Helmsman lay beside him on  
the floor. He moved to her side, but before he even felt for a pulse, he  
knew, by her stillness and the awkward angle of her neck. "She's dead." He  
said quietly.

_What the hell happened?_ Tom passed a hand over Stadi's glazed eyes,  
closing them with gentle pressure on the lids.

"Captain, there's something out there." Harry Kim said, his hands working at  
the controls of his console.

"I need a better description than that, Mr Kim."

"I'm reading...I don't know what I'm reading." Kim's features displayed deep  
puzzlement, and concern.

"Can you get the viewscreen operational?" Janeway moved towards the  
operations console, her own face registering mild annoyance that she held in  
check.

"I'm trying."

Tom stood up, taking in the rest of the ruined bridge for the first time.  
Debris littered the deck, and crewmembers lay on the floor, some moaning in  
pain, others, deathly still. To one side of the command station, Cavit lay  
on his back. Lifeless eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling; A shattered  
plasma conduit lay across his chest. _He must have taken more than 3000_  
_volts when that thing came down,_ Tom thought. He turned away, watching the  
Captain and Harry.

At that moment, Harry looked up from his console, shock and disbelief  
evident in his expression. "Captain, if these sensors are working, we're  
over 70,000 light years from where we were. We're on the other side of the  
galaxy!"

Tom blinked, looking from Harry to the captain's face and back. For a  
moment, shocked silence fell upon everyone within hearing of Kim's voice. It  
was deathly still, only the sound of sparking consoles, and muted alarms  
from various systems punctuated the moment, as everyone tried to assimilate  
what Harry had said.

Janeway placed the palms of both hands to the small of her back, pacing a  
moment before she turned to her bridge crew. "Those of you who are able, get  
this deck cleaned up." Her voice took on an edge of iron resolve and Tom  
began to see a hint of why his father had wanted this woman on his crew.  
"Form teams, get the injured to sick bay. Mr Kim I want you to gather as  
much information as you can about our location and whatever else you can  
find in this sector." She turned to Tom. "Mr Paris, until further notice,  
you're assigned to repairs on the helm.

"Yes, Captain!" Tom turned and moved to the console immediately.

Taking his seat, Tom looked over the flickering console screen.  
"Navigational sensors are offline," he reported, slim fingers moving lightly  
across what controls were still working. "The secondary stabilisers on the  
starboard side are fused. We have impulse power, Captain, but I would  
suggest we don't try going anywhere for the moment unless you want a bumpy  
ride."

Janeway sighed, acknowledging his words with a small nod. "Get on it, Mr  
Paris." She turned to survey the bridge, watching as the bodies of Cavit and  
Stadi were removed. Moving to her command chair, she swept some debri onto  
the floor and sat down. "Let's get this ship up to full readiness as soon  
as we can." She pressed a control to activate the command console between  
her chair and the one usually occupied by the First Officer. "I want regular  
reports on all stations," She added as she bent over the console and began  
reading the information feeds.

For ten minutes, the atmosphere of the Bridge was that of quiet industry,  
Each officer occupied with repairing and recalibrating systems, slowly  
pulling the ship back into order. Janeway, hardly spoke except to give  
acknowledgment as various stations reported in with progress checks.

As silence again settled over the busy crew, Harry Kim spoke from his  
station. "Captain, I have run a sensor sweep of the immediate surroundings,"  
he said. "I am detecting two other vessels in this sector. Some kind of  
alien array, and...The Maquis ship, Val Jean." He paused a moment, then added. "I have  
visual."

"On screen." Janeway stood and moved towards the view screen as Harry  
activated it. Her eyes briefly resting on the small Maquis vessel that  
she had sought, before moving to take in the array which seemed to dwarf  
both the Val Jean and Voyager. "Status?" She spoke the query over her  
shoulder without looking at Kim.

"I am not reading any life signs on the Maquis ship."

"What about on that...that array?"

"Our sensors can't penetrate it." Harry shook his head as he spoke.

"Any idea what those pulses are that are coming from it, Mr Kim?"

"Massive bursts of radiant energy. They seem to be directed toward a nearby  
G-type star system."

"Try hailing the array." Janeway said.

Tom kept his eyes carefully focussed on his work, but he listened closely to  
all that the Captain and Operations officer said. _No life signs? Where are_  
_they? Where are you, Chakotay?_ His hands continued to move over controls as  
one part of his mind kept busy with the repairs he was making. All he needed  
was for Engineering to acknowledge a request for power so that he could test  
his work. He narrowed his eyes, glancing at the small communication screen  
where his message to navigational control remained unanswered. He was about  
to report this when a chirp from the captain's com badge cut the relative  
quiet of the bridge.

*Engineering to Bridge. We have some severe damage. The chief's dead.  
Possibility of a warp core breach.* Tom recognized the voice of Ensign  
Carey, one of the younger crew members who'd been swayed against him by  
Cavit and the doctor's little smear campaign.

Janeway was instantly in motion, already heading for the turbo lift. "Secure  
all engineering systems, I'm on my way." Nodding when Harry reported that  
the array did not respond to hails, the captain tossed him a glance over her  
shoulder. "Ensign, get down to sickbay and see what's going on. Mr Rollins,  
you have the bridge."

Seeing that there was nothing more he could do with the helm until the warp  
core was repaired, Tom got to his feet, hurrying to catch up with Harry as  
the Ensign stepped into the turbo lift. "Harry, wait for me."


	8. Chapter 8

**Ocampan Homeworld. Three Days later**

 

Merciless sun beat down on the arid surface of the planet. He could feel it burning his skin, and the hot, dry air seemed to leech every drop of moisture from his body. Perspiration blurred his vision, yet he was determined not to give in. 

Checking the screen of the tricorder again, he stumbled onwards, his throat raw with thirst, his mind numb to all but the insistent drive to find water. The precious little that he'd replicated before leaving the runabout was almost out, and the hydralex hypos would not last him more than a few days. If he didn't find shelter from the sun, water, and civilization soon, he knew his chances of survival were next to nil.

Julian could not recall how long he had been on the planet but it had been two days at least. He didn't even know where he was, apart from the fact that he was obviously out of communication range of Voyager. He had tried hailing the ship from his downed runabout, and got no response.

He was stranded, with no way off the planet. The runabout had been all but destroyed in the crash, and a violent storm the night of the crash had made it unsuitable as shelter any more. Julian still marvelled that he'd even come through the crash alive. _Perhaps because I was knocked out by the wave...and what was that all about, anyway?_

Stumbling in the loose sand, he lost his footing and sank down on the burning surface to rest, if just for a moment. _So_ _hot...so thirsty..._ Julian tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt. It was stifling, but he didn't dare take it off. The skin that was exposed to the harsh light of this system's sun was already red and beginning to blister, and he could not afford any further damage. With shaking hands he opened the water canteen and lifted it to his parched lips.

As he gulped at the last few drops of water, Julian was surprised by a shadow suddenly falling across him. He lowered the flask, and held up a hand to shield his eyes as he peered at the creature, which had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

It was humanoid, certainly, but no species that Julian had ever encountered. Nor could he recall any record of such an alien in the Federation Library systems. He wiped sweat from his eyes, and swallowed the tepid liquid before he spoke. "Greetings, I am Doctor Julian Bashir, Chief Medical officer of the Federation Star Base Deep Space Nine. I am stranded here, my shuttle crashed and I would appreciate..."

"Silence!" The alien strode forward and snatched the water canteen from Julian's hand. Tipping the flask to its lips it tasted the liquid then shoved the container into Julian's face. "Water! Where did you obtain it?"

"I...I ... made it." Julian stammered, taken aback by the brusque manner of the alien. He studied it, now that it had moved out of the direct line of the sun. It was about 6' tall, with a deeply ridged nasal structure. It's forehead bore what looked like a large, bony plate, similar in some respects to that of Klingons. But it was the creature's hair that captured Julian's attention. The dark brown, or black locks were braided and arranged into an intricate style, with what appeared to be pieces of cloth and other debris interwoven with the braids. 

_Definitely a very bad hair day_ Julian couldn't help the ribald thought, but managed to keep his features suitably sombre. 

_"Made water!?"_ The alien advanced on him. "How?"

For the first time, Julian began to think that perhaps he should not have been so free with his tongue. "He gazed up at the menacing looking alien, and swallowed hard. "Did I say made?" he gave a weak laugh. "I ... I meant I ... found it...I..." 

"Lies! There is no water on the surface of this planet!" The alien grabbed Julian by his collar and hauled him to his feet. "You will come with me! Jabin will be interested to meet someone who can _make_ water!"

_Oh shit..._ Julian had little choice other than to march ahead of the alien. _I would suggest you start thinking,_ _fast, Doctor,_ he told himself. _It looks like you have gotten yourself into another fine mess!_

 

~~*~~

 

**Aboard Voyager: Same Day.**

Personal Log: Lieutenant, Thomas Eugene Paris. Chief Navigational Officer USS Voyager.

It's three days since we were brought from the Alpha quadrant into what, we now know is the Delta Quadrant, by an alien called 'The Caretaker."

Several crewmembers were killed in the translocation, including Lieutenant Stadi, who was chief Navigational Officer. In the event of her death, Captain Janeway has assigned me as Chief Navigational Officer as I have the most piloting experience.

What can I say about the past few days? They have been some of the hardest of my life. Coming to terms with the fact that we are so far from home. Out of reach of even the most basic supplies, resources and contact. As far as we know, we are the only representatives of our respective races in this quadrant.

Then there is the intermingling of two different and antonymous crews. I have to say I am glad I'm not the Captain of this ship. Janeway must have more than her fair share of headaches. 

For myself, I am keeping a low profile. It's bad enough the Star Fleet crew see me as some kind of Pariah, but to have the Maquis breathing down my neck at every turn only serves to further complicate matters. 

I feel ashamed at having to employ minders. I never had to do that before, but I am honestly not keen to leave my quarters, or to walk around the decks alone, especially on the Delta shift. Chakotay, has offered a grudging protection, which he makes no secret of hating, but I suppose he thinks he is obliged to protect me, because I saved his sorry ass in that Ocampan tunnel.

Harry is my only mainstay. His friendship keeps me going. In fact, I am working on a special project that I am hoping to share with him sometime soon. A holoprogram. It's for the whole crew, really, not just myself. I managed to program it so it only uses minimal resources. I hope it will give everyone some relief from rationing. 

Strange that I chose the place where I first met Chakotay to set this thing in...but then, I can always kid myself that it's because I love Marseilles.

We're on course for home, and it is my official off duty time. It would be nice if I could actually get outta here and *do* something with it.

Tom Paris paused as his com badge chirped. 

*Janeway to Paris.*

"Paris here."

*We've received a hail from a Kazon vessel. I want you up here, we may have need of your flying skills.*

"Aye Captain. I'm on my way," Tom got to his feet, he headed for the doors. "Computer, save and encrypt log."


	9. Chapter 9

As he stepped onto the bridge and headed for the helm console, Tom glanced  
at the view screen where a Kazon glared down at the slim form of Captain  
Janeway.

"He says he is one of your people!" The Kazon snarled and moved closer to  
the camera. "He _says_ you will barter for his safe return!"

"And I have already told you, none of our people are missing." Janeway  
folded her arms across her chest, refusing to back down. "I won't barter  
with you for someone who claims to belong to my crew, when I am certain that  
all of my crew are accounted for. I..."

"He says he is a doctor. From the Federation Star Base Deep Space Nine."

Tom's hands paused over the helm controls and he looked up at the screen. He  
frowned. "Captain, the Kazon would not have any knowledge of Deep Space  
Nine. How..."

"My thought exactly." Janeway stepped closer to the helm console and put a  
hand on Tom's shoulder for a moment before she addressed the Kazon. "We know  
of such a star base. Has this person you speak of given you his name?"

The Kazon sighed heavily, his patience obviously thin. "He has given us his  
name. It is Doctor Julian Bashir. NOW will you name your barter terms?"

"Bashir!" Tom turned to the captain as he felt all blood drain from his  
face. "Trust me, Captain, it would be better for all concerned if you left  
him there, and forget about him. Doctor Bashir is..."

"He's a doctor, for one thing." Janeway cut him off. "And for another thing,  
he is a Starfleet officer, and there is no way I will leave him in the hands  
of the Kazon."

"This could be some kind of trick." Chakotay spoke from his seat, and Tom  
nodded emphatically.

"He's right. We haven't seen this man. I mean, who knows how they found out  
about Deep Space Nine or anything else. But we can't just take their word  
for it."

"Granted." Janeway turned her attention to the view screen. "How do we know  
that what you're saying is the truth? Unless of course, you have proof?"

"Proof!" With a growl, the Kazon turned his back to the screen, and a moment  
later he moved out of the picture. There was a brief discussion and then a  
man clad in a tattered and dusty starfleet medical uniform was shoved into  
the picture The Kazon returned, grabbing a handful of the man's wavy dark  
hair and pushing his face into the camera. "Here is your proof! Is he not a  
member of your race? He is wearing the same uniform! You insult us with  
these demands for proof!"

Staring at the bruised face of the man on the screen, Tom gulped. "That's  
Doctor Bashir," he said softly. "I know him."

"All right," Kathryn said. "Doctor Bashir. I understand it is your wish to  
join my crew?"

"Y-yes, Captain." Julian spoke hesitantly in reply, but his hazel eyes  
lingered on the form of Tom Paris visible to her side. "I was brought into  
this quadrant quite against my will. I have no way of returning to Earth  
without your aid."

Tom swallowed hard as the harshness of his words a moment ago came back to  
visit him. _Leave him where he is and forget him..._ Had Julian heard  
that? Tom felt a flood of remorse. For a moment, his own selfishness had  
allowed him to forget that 'leaving him here' meant dooming Julian to exile  
from his home, his friends and everything that he knew. _Dammit...how_  
 _heartless can you be, Tom?_

Janeway nodded slightly then turned to Chakotay for a moment. "Have four  
tanks of water prepared for transport." She then turned back to the view  
screen. "I will barter 20,000 litres of water for this man."

"Is that a good idea?" Tom asked. "That amount of water is going to give  
them a lot of power in this sector, Captain. Neelix has already told us  
that..."

"I need a doctor, Mr Paris." Janeway turned and moved to her command seat.

"But Captain..."

"If I want your advice on how to run my ship, Mr Paris, I'll be sure and  
ask." The captain sat down with an expression that told him plainly that the  
subject was closed. To the Kazon she said: "Do we have a deal?"

"We want the technology that enables you to create water."

"I am afraid I can't give you that technology. I have stated my terms. What  
is your answer?"

There was a long pause, during which Tom stared into Julian Bashir's eyes.  
Even now, a part of him hoped that the Kazon would reject the terms. Of all  
the things he didn't need right now, Julian Bashir aboard Voyager would have  
to be top of the list. He sighed. _Why did he have to follow us here? Why_  
 _couldn't you just give it up, Julian?_

"We accept your terms." The Kazon roughly pushed Julian to the side.  
"However, we do not hand him over to you until we have received, and stored  
the water, unharmed. We know your trickery!"

"Very well." Janeway got to her feet and headed for the Turbolift. "Mr Kim  
you will beam the water to the Kazon ship. Chakotay, with me."

"Captain, I'd like to come with you." Tom was already half on his feet as he  
spoke, and the captain turned to look at him. "I am a field medic," he said  
in explanation. "Doctor Bashir looked as though he may need medical  
attention."

"All right." The captain nodded her assent and stepped into the lift.


	10. Chapter 10

Tom grabbed a medikit from a cabinet just inside the Transporter room doors  
and took a tricorder from it, calibrating the sensors as he waited with  
Chakotay and the captain for the arrival of Julian Bashir.

He kept his eyes carefully focussed on his task, but his mind boiled with  
thoughts. Anger coursed through him at the thought that Julian had actually  
had the nerve to follow them.

_What was he thinking? He's a complete and utter fucking idiot! How many_   
_times do I have to tell him it is finished between us?_

*Captain, I have transported the water to the Kazon vessel.* Harry's voice  
spoke over the coms. *They advise us to stand-by to receive the...'hostage.'  
*

"Well done, Mr Kim." Janeway's voice was tense as she added. "Try to keep a  
lock on that water."

At this, both Tom and Chakotay glanced sharply at her and the captain smiled  
slightly. "We can't afford to give away that amount of water. It is  
a precious resource out here after all."

Chakotay made no reply, but his expression spoke volumes.

Tom looked from the executive officer to the captain and back again. _It's_  
 _not going to be easy for him, reshaping his thinking to Star Fleet's way. I_  
 _can see he doesn't agree. Why doesn't he say something?_ Tom frowned, and  
looked the captain right in the eye. While Chakotay may be constrained by  
his position from stating his thoughts openly, Tom was under no such  
restraint. "That's just the kind of damned underhanded bullshit one would  
expect from Star Fleet," he said.

"Tom." Chakotay gave him a look that told him to cool it.

"It's only the truth, Chakotay." Tom looked into the Native American's eyes.

"That may be, but you're speaking to your commanding officer."

"Don't try and tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, Commander." Tom  
straightened his shoulders, daring Chakotay to deny it.

"What I think has nothing to do with this, Lieutenant. You're out of line."

For a moment, they faced each other eyes locked, postures tense, until Tom  
relented with a small sigh. He lowered his eyes and took a half step back.  
"I'm sorry, Captain," he muttered.

Janeway sighed. "I am willing to let this pass, Mr Paris. I acknowledge that  
we're all under duress at this time. However, in future, you will consider  
your actions more carefully. I have no problem with crewmembers speaking  
plainly to me--under the correct protocol."

"Yes, Ma'am." Tom busied himself with an inventory of the medikit, turning  
his back to the two senior officers. _Put a lid on it, Tom--you're going_  
 _the right way to be busted to cadet._

A few moments later, the transporter chief glanced up from his console "The  
Kazon are signalling that they are ready to transfer Doctor Bashir. I have a  
lock on him, ready to transport."

"Energize," Captain Janeway said.

Moments later, Julian Bashir materialized on the transporter pad. His  
uniform was dusty and tattered, and his face bore the marks of recent  
contusions. The skin on the backs of his hands, the back of his neck, his  
nose and lips was badly blistered from solar radiation. He swayed on his  
feet and Tom was at his side in an instant, scanning him with the tricorder  
he carried. "Easy, Jules." The nickname came to his lips automatically. "You're   
safe here." He laid a hand on Julian's shoulder. "Captain, he needs to  
be in sickbay. He's dehydrated and suffering acute exhaustion."

Janeway nodded. "Very well, Mr Paris, you can take him there." She tapped  
her com badge.

"Ensign Kim, do you still have a lock on the water?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Beam it back aboard in five minutes. Janeway out."

Tom looked at the Transporter Chief. "Beam us both to sickbay."

 

**Sickbay: USS Voyager 3 minutes later.**

"It seems your diagnostic skills are quite good, Mr Paris." The EMH gave Tom  
a small smile. "I couldn't have analysed these tricorder results any better  
myself. I will set up a Hydralex intravenous feed, and I recommend complete  
rest for the next 48 hours." He looked at Julian. "As for the solar damage  
to your skin, it can be repaired quite easily. I will commence work on that  
at once." As he spoke the doctor picked up a dermal regenerator. "Might I  
just say, what a relief it is to have a qualified doctor aboard once more? I  
am only programmed as a temporary measure."

Julian nodded. "I can't tell you just how glad I am to be here. But I need  
to speak with the Captain as soon as possible. There are some things she  
needs to know before we leave this sector. We can't risk the Kazon  
discovering the wreckage of my runabout. I wouldn't like to answer for what  
may happen if they were to figure out how to use, or recreate a replicator."

Tom scowled. "Of course, that wouldn't have been an issue if you'd stayed on  
Deep Space Nine where you belong! What in hell possessed you to follow us?"

That's not the issue here, Tom, I am serious about this. The Kazon are  
obsessed with our technology. They wanted to know how I arrived on their  
world. They are not afraid to go to great lengths to obtain federation  
technology."

"Shut the fuck up, Julian!" _Gods I hate his holier than though, plummy_  
 _mouthed attitude.how did I EVER get myself wrapped up with him?_

"Oh just as charming as always, I see." Julian caught hold of Tom's arm.  
"You listen to me, Mister Paris. If it were not for your intolerable  
rudeness, I wouldn't be in this mess! Don't you dare cuss me out for being  
here, it's your fault! He gave Tom a slight shake. "All you had to do was  
come and say good bye. All I wanted from you was a sense of closure."

"I didn't need to come say anything to you doctor, you have no claim on me.  
What we had was over a long time ago--and its Lieutenant Paris to you,  
Doctor Bashir."

"Well, of all the low down heartless things to say--I really should..."

"That will be enough, gentlemen, thank you." The EMH stepped between the two  
men, his expression grim. "This is a sickbay not a boxing ring. Lieutenant  
Paris is leaving - Now. And YOU Doctor, need to rest." He picked up a hypo  
spray, programming it with a light sedative. "Doctors orders This is still  
my sickbay for the moment!"

"Yeah, Doc. Sedate the son of a bitch."

"Out!" The EMH turned to Tom with a deep frown.

"OK OK. I'm gone." Tom turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Julian sighed and lay down on the biobed. "This is not over Thomas Eugene.  
Not by a long shot..." He permitted the EMH to administer the sedative.

Storming into a Turbolift, Tom vented his frustration by pounding a fist  
against the wall. "Of all the fucking self centred BASTARDS!"

"Command unclear," the computer responded. "Please restate destination."

"Bridge, dammit!" Tom said between gritted teeth.


	11. Chapter 11

"So how do you know this Doctor Bashir anyway?" Harry sat across the table  
from Tom in Sandrine's Tom's newly created holographic program. Harry looked  
around, still marvelling at the detail that Tom had managed to include in  
what he described as a 'low consumption' program.

"I met him the day that I was cashiered from Star Fleet." Tom raised the  
glass he held to his lips and sipped the synthale. "Got a room in the same  
apartment, and got in way too deep with him before I even realized what I  
was getting into." He shook his head. "If I'd had a lick of sense, which I  
didn't back then, I woulda given the guy as wide a berth as possible."

"But if as you say, the relationship is over? Why did he follow us out here?  
He must have some reason to think that he has a chance with you."

"Yeah the reason being he is completely insane." Tom set his glass down on  
the table and absently stirred his finger through a watermark on the  
surface. "I don't know, Harry. I just wish he hadn't turned up out here. I  
have enough to contend with, with the Maquis on board."

"Well, there's not much hope of changing things, Tom. We're all stuck out  
here, and we're stuck with each other. Can't you find some way to work  
things out with him? Doctor Bashir doesn't seem like an unreasonable man.  
I'm sure if you talked to him - explained to him how things are - He's bound  
to listen to reason, Tom. Maybe you're being too hard on him."

"Maybe I am." Tom sighed deeply. "Then there is Chakotay to deal with as  
well. I just know he is waiting his chance to get me alone somewhere and."

"Tom. Really, you're taking this paranoia thing to extremes! Commander  
Chakotay hasn't even made the slightest move towards harming you. Look, he  
has offered you protection ever since he came aboard. You're letting your  
imagination run away with you."

Tom smiled. _Poor innocent Harry. You see nothing but good in everyone. I_  
 _can't remember the last time I was like that.was I ever like that? Our lives_  
 _developed on totally different axes, Harry. I doubt that you could even_  
 _begin to imagine what it's like inside my skin._ Reaching across the table,  
he picked up Harry's glass. "Can I get you another?"

Harry shook his head. "Naw, I should be heading back to change. I'm on shift  
in two hours."

"OK. Oh and sorry about the rations. I'll give them back if you want, it was  
just in fun."

Harry laughed. "No, Tom, keep them. But next time you offer me a lesson in  
pool I'm leaving my credit chip at home."

"Sure thing, Har. Anyway, I won't be asking you to gamble again, until I have  
taught you everything I know."

Tom watched as Harry left the holosuite, then returned his attention to his  
drink. He wasn't really ready to go back to his quarters yet, and the  
atmosphere in the bar was pleasant, taking him away from the problems facing  
him. He carried his glass to the bar and got a refill.

Maybe Harry was right. Maybe he was letting his imagination run away from  
him. It was true that Chakotay hadn't made any false moves since he and his  
crew joined Voyager. If anything, he'd been coolly polite, all duty, yet  
there was something in the back of the Commander's eyes whenever Tom met  
them that told him, life debt or none, the account between himself and the  
Maquis captain was not settled yet.

Lifting the glass of wine to his lips, Tom froze in mid sip. A figure had  
appeared in the doorway, and it was way too bulky to be Harry coming back.  
Turning slowly, Tom found himself staring into the cold dark eyes of the  
very man who'd so recently occupied his thoughts.

Tom gulped. "Chakotay."

"Why doesn't it surprise me to find you in a pub," Chakotay stepped into the  
room. "Impressive I might add. Not surprising though. It's where you belong,  
isn't it, Paris. In a pub, wasting yourself on booze."

"It's synthetic," Tom said. "I don't drink any more."

"Whatever." Chakotay shrugged and moved to lean on the bar, facing the  
pilot. "You're out without your body guards, Tom. Getting a little cocksure,  
aren't you?"

"I can't hide behind them forever, Commander."

"True enough." Chakotay glanced at Sandrine who was offering him something  
to drink and shook his head. "You know the regulations about simulating real  
people," he said to Tom.

"Regulations." Tom paused and took a mouthful of the holographic wine. "Out  
here, Commander, regulations don't really mean a whole lot, do they?"

"On the contrary, they mean more than usual. Without them, chaos would very  
quickly take over this ship. People may very probably cast off all restraint  
and resort to--other means to solve their problems. You demonstrated that  
very clearly earlier today."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tom straightened up, immediately on the  
defensive.

"That charming display with the Captain when we were waiting for Bashir.  
That's not all though, is it? I heard about your -- discussion with Bashir  
and the doctor in Sickbay. You think you can just throw everything away,  
forget your training, forget your duty and kick everyone in the guts."  
Chakotay stepped in close to Tom. "I'm here to tell you, it doesn't happen  
on my watch, Paris."

"What're you going to do about it? Strip me of replicator privileges?" Tom  
snorted softly. "There's not a whole lot that can happen out here, is there?"

Chakotay moved so suddenly that Tom was taken completely by surprise.  
Grabbing his wrist and applying pressure until Tom's fingers slackened on  
the glass and let it fall to the floor. Then, he painfully twisted Tom's arm  
behind his back, pinning him against the bar with his body as he leaned in  
close over Tom's back and snarled into the pilot's ear.

"I've got a hundred and one different ways to make you miserable, Paris. Don't   
think I won't use each and every one either. You think you're so damned  
smart because you dragged me out of that death pit on Ocampa Prime? All  
right, I'm grateful and I owe you one, but so help me, you'd better mend  
your attitude or I'm going to come down on you so hard you won't be able to  
walk for a week!"

"Fuck you!" Tom wrenched himself free and put some distance between himself  
and the Native American. "You don't scare me with your fucking strong  
arm tactics. I've had experts lining up to do me over. I don't frighten that  
easy."

"Why don't you lose that chip before it throws your shoulder out of  
alignment?" Chakotay shook his head in disgust. "Men like you make me sick,  
Paris. You think the world owes you something because you screwed up."

"That's not--"

"Save it. I don't care what your reasons are. Just pull your head in, or I  
will do it for you," Chakotay growled. "I'm ordering you to return to your  
quarters, and do yourself a favour. Don't let me find you alone again on  
Delta Watch."

Tom raised his chin and pulled his tunic straight. Narrowing his eyes, he  
gave Chakotay a glare that would have frozen water before he came to  
attention. "Sir, yessir!" he said, and then turned on his heel, heading for  
the door. "Computer, end program!"

Standing in the holosuite as the surroundings faded into the stark black and  
yellow grid pattern of an inactive program, Chakotay watched as Tom stalked  
out of the room. He sighed, hating to have to come on heavy with the pilot,  
but he had enough headaches to cope with, just trying to get his crew to  
settle in with the hated star fleet officers. He didn't need Paris throwing  
his own particular brand of wrenches into the works as well.

Drawing another deep, cleansing breath, Chakotay squared his shoulders and  
walked out into the corridor. He needed time to meditate and seek guidance  
from the spirits on how best to approach the myriad of new challenges he was  
encountering every day aboard this ship.


	12. Chapter 12

Tom stormed along the hallway, and into his own quarters, still muttering under his breath about Commander Chakotay and his hard assed attitude. He flung himself into a seat with a small grunt of frustration.

"Damn him!" Tom seethed, as he pushed one hand through his strawberry blonde hair. "If he wasn't the XO of this ship, I would settle this with him the old fashioned way. I know he is just itching for a chance to slug it out with me..." He paused and snorted at the thought. "I could show him a few moves I learned in Auckland...except he would probably cry no fair...yeah...good old by the book Chakotay!" Rising to his feet with a growl, Tom went to the replicator and punched in an order for coffee. 

With the mug in hand, he moved to the viewport, staring out at the stars flowing past as he sipped the hot beverage. _Yeah, but maybe some of what he said is true...I was out of line with the captain today, and even a bone head like ME_ _knows you don't slang off at a critically ill patient._

"Shit!" Tom palmed his face and closed his eyes for a moment. "Why can't you grow a fucking brain, Paris?" Setting his coffee mug down on a small table, he seated himself and opened his personal log files. "Paris' log, supplemental..."

"I can safely say this has not been one of my finest days as a star fleet officer...how many times did I pray for this exact oppotunity, when I was in the cage? How many times did I beg providence...God.... anyone to give me just one more chance? Yet when I get it, what do I do? Yeah...you guessed it, I royally fuck up, as usual!" 

Tom drew a deep breath and took another sip of coffee before he went on. "Tom Paris, low life, idiot and total screw up strikes again. I wish just for once, that I could learn to think for a minute before I open my mouth...no wait, before I even put one toe outside my damned quarters...Anyway, providence, or whatever ... whoever is listening to this. I...I'm sorry. I took this chance and almost flung it back in your teeth. I'll do better. If I can just fly this one damned mission, however long it takes, and make it fly straight...maybe it will cancel out whatever the hell curse is on me, huh?"

As he closed the log and got to his feet, Tom raised his eyes to look out at the stars one more time. "I wish I may...I wish I might..." He shook his head and laughed at his own moment of nostalgia. "Time for bed, Tom, my friend, you're getting maudlin!" Setting the coffee mug into the reclaimer he made his way into the sleeping area of his spacious quarters and called for lights out. "Tomorrow is another day...and for gods' sakes, Tom try to keep outta trouble?"

******

The jolt woke Tom from a sound sleep and he bolted up in bed, already reaching for a jacket, and swinging his legs over the side as the alert klaxons began to blare a warning throughout the ship.

Moments later, Chakotay's voice came over coms. "Red alert! All hands to battle stations!"

Tom needed no further prompting. He was on his feet and pulling on his clothes even as he headed for the door.

As he swung into the hallway, he tapped the small pin on his chest, activating his personal com signal. "Paris to Chakotay. What's going on, sir?"

"We're under attack from two Kazon vessels. I need you up here stat!"

"I'm on my way Commander. Paris out!"

As he baorded a turbolift, Tom was joined by the captain. He glanced at her, taking in her recently wakened appearance. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders as she finished fastening her jacket, her nimble fingers moving to quickly secure it in a knot at the nape of her neck. Not her usual severe style, and Tom couldn't help noticing how the less formal look softened her face. He gave her a small, apologetic smile, realizing he was staring and turned his attention to the deck numbers scrolling next to the lift door. Neither of them spoke as the lift carried them at maximum track to the bridge. 

Janeway was all business as soon as the door slid open. "What's the situation, Commander?" she strode to her command post, making a final adjustment to her uniform as she moved.

Tom replaced a shaken looking ensign at the helm and quickly ran his eyes and hands over the console, taking in the information feeds that seemed to fly across the screen at warp speed. He made an adjustment to his course to evade weapons fire at the same instant that Harry Kim shouted, "Incoming Torpedoes!"

"I'm on it, Captain," Tom said loudly enough to be heard above the general chaos on the bridge. "Altering course, attack pattern seven niner alpha..." He glanced at Tuvok, who was intent on his console and swung the ship in a tight arc, rounding on the enemy ship while it was still recharging weapons for the next attack.

"Readying photon torpedoes." Tuvok said.

"Fire at will, Mr Tuvok."

The shot took the smaller Kazon vessel broadside on, ripping a wide breach into the ship's hull and Tom grinned with triumph. But he was afforded little time to gloat. 

"The second ship is closing fast on an attack vector." Harry said urgently. "They're charging their weapons, Captain!"

"Hold on!" Tom tapped a sequence of commands into the helm, and sent Voyager into a portside roll, engines straining, and inertial dampeners racing to keep up, as the center of gravity underwent several rapid changes in less than a minute. Whilst jarring to the crew, the manouvre had the effect of evading the volley of phaser fire the Kazon vessel unleashed.

"Coming around...attack pattern Omega 12." Tom pulled the ship up sharply, seeming to almost stall her for a moment as she doubled back on her own plasma stream to come up under the belly of the still charging Kazon ship.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow and hit a button on his console. "Firing all phasers."

"Captain, the Kazon are hailing us," Harry spoke from his station.

"On screen." Janeway looked up at the screen as the face of the Kazon commander flashed into view.

"We demand that you return the water you stole from us!" The Kazon wasted no time coming to the point. "We made a bargain with you! We held to our end of it, and you dishonoured us with your subterfuge!"

_I knew it!_ Tom restrained himelf from making any outward sign of his thoughts, but he allowed his mind free reign. _I knew her stupid ploy would land us in trouble!_ He turned in his seat, meeting the eyes of the Native American XO. 

Chakotay gave a slight shake of his head and leaned forward in his chair, willing Tom to keep his mouth shut.

_Oh, don't worry,_ Tom thought, _I won't say anything, but that doesn't stop me from acknowledging that this_ _dame almost got us all killed._

"I am afraid, I can't give you the water," Janeway spoke coolly. "We need every resource we can muster for our own journey. You speak of honour, when you sent a man back to us, barely alive, beaten, dehydrated and suffering from solar radiation. Where is the honour in that? You broke our treaty!"

Tom turned back to his console, fair brows coming down in a thoughtful frown as he listened to the captain's words. This was an angle he'd failed to consider, and it gave him pause for a moment. _Yeah, ok I'll admit Julian is in bad shape, but why_ _didn't she just tell the Kazon all bets were off? She didn't even bother to explain._

"We are not responsible for the condition your...doctor was in. He was found wandering in the desert, alone, without water." The Kazon stepped closer to the camera, so that his face took up most of the screen. "We treated him fairly!"

"That's not the story he tells. He claims you beat him...and..."

"He lied! The Kazon do not ..."

"Save it!" Janeway held up a hand and turned away. "We saw with our own eyes, the way you treated Kes."

"Ocampans are weak minded and weaker in body! Good for nothing except the water they hoarde underground!"

"I don't think we have anything further to discuss." Janeway faced him, arms crossed over her chest. "Take your ships out of our path, and let us pass."

"What if we refuse?"

"You have already seen what our weapons can do. You have three minutes."

Tom lowered his eyes to his console as the communication was cut. He bit his lip, holding back the torrent of words that hovered just under the cool surface he maintained.

"Ahead one quarter impulse, Mr Paris." Janeway's voice was implacable as she resumed her seat.

"Aye captain...engaging impulse engines." Tom spoke between gritted teeth, as his hands went through the motions of powering up the engines. "One quarter impulse power."

"The Kazon have not changed their position, Captain," Harry reported. "Both vessels are capable of impulse propulsion."

"Steady as she goes, Mr Paris." Janeway didn't flinch.

"Aye...holding steady." Tom concentrated on the task in hand, every ounce of resolve he possessed strained to breaking point in the effort to follow orders.

"Captain, we are approaching too close to the lead vessel. Collision *is* imminent," he said softly.

"Stay on course, Lieutenant." It was Chakotay's voice that answered, and Tom tensed, amazed that the Maquis Captain could support Janeway in this."

"Holding steady," he muttered. "1100 units and closing."

"The Kazon vessels are maintaining position," Harry said.

_Are we just going to ram them out of our way?_ Tom clenched his jaw which already ached from keeping his tongue in check. He felt perspiration run between his shoulders and he flexed them slightly, drawing in a deep breath. "Eight hundred units. We no longer have room to evade a collision, Captain."

"Those vessels have enough manouverability to evade us, Mr Paris." Janeway's voice held an edge of cold steel. "Hold your course."

"Six hundred units." Tom immeresed himself in the process of watching and reporting the proximity readouts on his console. Anything to remove his mind from the scenario being played out on the bridge. _She's insane...The jump so far in space_ _has addled her mind...gods! I can't stand this much longer!_

"Captain, the lead Kazon vessel has engaged her engines. She is moving out of our way." Harry spoke with obvious relief.

"One point to starboard, Lieutenant Paris, and set a course for home!" Janeway smiled as she spoke and cast a glance at her second officer. "I never was one to back down from a game of chicken," she said softly as she got to her feet. I am heading back to bed." Janeway turned to survey her bridge crew for a moment. "Well done, all of you."

As the captain left the bridge, Tom allowed the tension in his body to dissipate slightly, making a few final adjustments to his course he turned to Chakotay. "Commander, if you won't be needing me anymore, I'd like to be excused," he said, the strain of the past hour beginning to catch up with him.

"You're dismissed, Tom." Chakotay said with a slight nod.

Tom got up and headed towards the turbolift, but paused as Chakotay called his name.

"Sir?"

Chakotay smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth showing the dimples that Tom had always found so appealing. "Nice flying, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Tom allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his mouth. "Goodnight."


	13. Chapter 13

Neelix sat in the mess hall pondering what could be done to lift the spirits of the crew after their disappointment over the failed attempt to convey messages home via the Romulan Telek. He sighed, and glanced at Kes who sat across the table from him.

"A party would be the ideal solution," he said. "But I don't think we have the resources just now, and I don't want to put any more pressure on the Captain by asking her to make any stops for provisioning."

Kes smiled, "I'm sure you will think of something, dear one," she murmured, reaching for his hand across the table. "You've never been lost for ideas before."

"You inspire me, my love, just by being here." Neelix gave her hand a gentle squeeze and went back to his reverie.

A few moments later, the door to the mess hall swung open to admit Tom Paris, accompanied by Harry Kim, and Neelix scrambled to his feet to welcome them. 

"Ah, gentlemen," he said jovially, "You're just in time to sample some of my latest creation." As he spoke, Neelix bustled into the kitchen. "It's a concoction I developed using fresh Leola root, combined with something your computers called - er -- Plomeek! Yes, that's it! I find it has an interesting texture, and the taste - well --"

"Uh, thanks, Neelix." Tom found an opportunity to break in on the Talaxian's torrent of words. "I'm not all that hungry, do you think I could just get some coffee?"

"Of course, Lieutenant, one cup of coffee coming right up!" Neelix glanced at Harry; "Perhaps I could interest you in some Plomeek and Leola root stew, Ensign?"

"Sure." Ever the good-natured diplomat, Harry nodded as he and Tom took seats at a table. "I'm starved!" he added with a speaking glance at Tom who was making faces behind Neelix' back.

"One of these days, you're going to let him poison you," Tom muttered as Neelix hurried off to fill their orders, "and I am not going to administer first aid."

"Oh cut it out." Harry allowed a small laugh. "His cooking is not so bad. I mean, it's better than some of the stuff my roommate in academy used to dish up, and I survived that!"

"Yeah, well, there's a lot to be said for a cast iron gut." Tom shook his head and glanced towards the door, as it swung open. "Uh-oh, here's trouble."

"What?" Harry followed Tom's gaze and bit his lip. "Oh."

Julian Bashir entered the mess hall and paused for a moment, catching his breath after the walk from his quarters. It was the first time he'd ventured anywhere on the ship besides sickbay, and the extra distance left him feeling a little weak. He drew a deep breath, and took a halting step towards a nearby table.

Kes was immediately on her feet, and moving to his side. She offered him a supporting arm, and the doctor smiled at her. "Thank you." Julian, leaned on her a little as they walked to the table he'd chosen, but he hesitated in the act of sitting down, as his eyes fell on Tom. He smiled and glanced at Kes. "Do you think you could help me over there?"

"Of course," the Ocampan replied, and led Julian towards where Tom and Harry were sitting.

"Shit!" Tom muttered, "I don't need this today." He pushed back from the table and half rose before Harry laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"Come on, Tom, don't be an ass." Harry's dark eyes were fixed on Tom's face as he continued. "Give him some slack. He's left you alone up til now, and you need to face this sometime."

Tom sighed, glancing away for a moment, then slowly resumed his seat. "All right," he said grudgingly, "but if he starts any crap I'm out of here, Har."

"I don't know why you think he has it in for you, Tom." Harry said. "He's been reasonable, and..."

"Yeah, yeah." Tom held up a hand to stop Harry's commentary. "I said I'd talk to him, didn't I?"

"Sorry." Harry turned to Julian as he and Kes approached the table. "Doctor Bashir." He smiled. "Won't you join us?"

"Thanks." Julian took a seat and thanked Kes for her assistance then turned to his companions. "I am not as fit as I thought," he said with a rueful grimace.

"You look a lot better than you did a few weeks ago," Harry said quietly.

"Here we are, Mr Kim." Neelix came bustling up to the table at that moment, and set a bowl of yellowish green stew in front of the Ensign. "And your coffee, Tom." Setting the mug down, Neelix turned to beam at Julian. "Ah, doctor! How nice to see you out and about! Can I get you anything?"

"I'll just have whatever is going at the moment," Julian replied, "I needed a change of scenery, and some company other than the EMH."

"Well, you have come to the right place, Doctor. There's no better company on the ship than Lieutenant Paris, and Ensign Kim!" Neelix beamed around the table then scurried off to the kitchen, promising to return in a moment with something to tempt the doctor's appetite.

"Tom," Julian said, "It's nice to see you."

Tom took a deep breath and raised his eyes with an effort to look into the flecked hazel eyes of the man sitting opposite him. He didn't speak, just stared into those brightly intelligent eyes as a hundred different platitudes ran through his mind. He frowned slightly, realizing that he didn't know what to say. It was unusual for him to be speechless, but, Tom had to admit, it was becoming something of a regular occurrence since joining Voyager. "Hi," he managed finally, adding a weak smile as he lowered his eyes.

"Uh--maybe I should leave you two alone," Harry said, picking up his bowl and pushing his chair back from the table. Ignoring Tom's glare, he stood and moved off to join Kes.

Julian shifted in his seat slightly, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward so that he could speak quietly enough for only Tom to hear."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"What more is there to say, Julian? We said it all years ago." Tom glanced into the doctor's eyes and away again. "I just want you to leave me alone."

"I've left you alone, Tom. I've gone out of my bloody way to leave you alone, but this ship is getting too bloody small to avoid you anymore. I am sick and tired of living the life of a damned hermit for your benefit! We need to face this and talk it out once and for all!"

You want me to thank you?" Tom smirked and folded his arms across his chest. "All right, thank you."

With a small sigh, Julian closed his eyes. "I knew this was a mistake," he muttered and looked up as Neelix came to set a bowl of stew in front of him. He picked up the spoon and stirred the food slowly but made no attempt to eat. "What do you want me to do, Tom?"

Julian's voice sounded so small and desolate, that for a moment, Tom's resolve to hold Julian at arms length almost cracked. He sighed, closing his eyes, then stood up. "I don't know what you should do, Julian. I - I have to go." He turned on his heel and headed for the door, ignoring Julian's call for him to come back.

Stepping into the hallway, Tom was brought up short as he collided with Voyager's first officer.

"Tom!" Chakotay steadied the younger man so that he didn't fall "Is everything all right?" He held Tom's arms for a moment longer than was necessary as he studied the pilot's face.

"I'm fine, Chakotay - I just - needed to get out of there." Tom tried to pull free, but found himself firmly held. "Look, Commander," he looked into the eyes of the Native American. "I really need to get back to work. I -"

Chakotay frowned. Tom was pale and shaken, and there was an unreadable expression in the depths of his eyes, that the first officer wanted to find out the meaning of. "I think we can spare you for a minute or two. It's quiet." He turned Tom by his arm and began to walk with him along the hallway. "What's upset you?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," Tom replied noncommittally. "Doctor Bashir decided to invite himself for lunch, and well - I wasn't hungry."

"I see. So you're still avoiding him?"

Tom glanced up sharply. "Not avoiding him exactly, just - choosing my company, Commander."

"The same way you've been 'choosing your company' for the last month? Surely you realize that the whole ship has been watching your little game of cat and mouse? It's beginning to pall. When are you going to face up to him, Tom?"

Tom shrugged. He didn't really care what anyone else on the ship thought of his way of dealing with Julian. "Trust me, Chakotay, it's better this way." He sighed softly. "Julian and I are like matter and anti-matter. The further apart we are, the better for all concerned."

"That's as may be, Tom, but this is a ship under duress. We're all stuck out here, and we have to find ways to live with it - and each other. You can't avoid this situation forever."

Tom stopped walking and turned to face Chakotay. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here. But there is nothing I can say or do with Julian Bashir that is going to change any of this. The man is obsessed with me, and has been for years." He shook his head. "Don't you think I have tried talking to him a hundred times? His problem is he doesn't understand what the words piss off and die mean!"

"That's pretty unfair!" Chakotay took a step forward so that he was face to face with the pilot. "Julian Bashir has done his best to accommodate your wishes since he came aboard the ship. He's kept out of your way, kept to his quarters and sickbay. He can't live that way the whole time we're out here, Tom. It's unreasonable to expect him to."

"That's the third time today I've heard someone sing that same tune!" Tom frowned. "Just what the hell is going on here? Wait a minute - you're in on this! You - and Harry! You three cooked this up between you, didn't you?"

"Well, it's getting pretty damned tiresome watching you two skirt around this issue and pretend that nothing is going on! What are we expected to do? Short of ordering you to sort it out, there isn't much." Chakotay grabbed Tom's arm as the pilot was about to leave. "Not so fast! Everyone is sick and tired of this crap, Paris. Grow up and just for once learn how to resolve an issue without running away!"

"Let go of me," Tom shrugged Chakotay's hand off. "You know, I am sick and tired of everyone on this fucking ship thinking they know how to manage my life for me. I'll fix this once and for all. The next habitable world we come to, I am asking for discharge." Turning on his heel, Tom stalked away down the hallway.

"Oh of course." Chakotay called after him. "Solve this the same way you've solved everything else in your life. Run away!"

The barb hit home, and Tom flinched, but he kept walking, refusing to let Chakotay see that his words had any effect on him. He was tired of dealing with the commander, and with Julian, and with everyone else meddling in his affairs for that matter. He could cope with life in the Delta Quadrant, it was not as if Voyager was the only warp capable vessel out here, he could find work as a pilot and make a new life for himself out here. Maybe he could set the past behind him once and for all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: PG: mild sexual references. Mild Spoilers for Ex Post Facto.
> 
> Author's Note: This retelling of the Episode "Ex Post Facto," is not  
> completely faithful to Canon. It has been some time since I watched the  
> episode, and it is no longer available to me in the video store. However,  
> since this story is an AU anyway, I don't think the accuracy thing is an  
> issue.
> 
> Also, I don't finish the story, since I feel to do so may spoil it  
> completely for anyone who has not yet seen the original.

"To say I am furious with him would be an understatement! I can't remember a  
time when I was so angry with anyone. I can't believe that he would do  
something so ill-considered and stupid!"

Kathryn Janeway paced the length of her ready room as she dictated her log  
to the computer.

"I didn't believe him, when he came and asked me to release him from his  
commission to Voyager when we made our approach to Benari prime. I turned  
him down flat. One, because we need him, and two as I was quick to remind  
him, he is not merely a crewmember on this ship. He is in my custody!"

Pausing for a moment, the captain rubbed her brow with one slender hand.

"I could see that hurt. I saw his eyes flicker with that unspoken emotion  
that flashes in them sometimes. I didn't like hurting him anymore than he  
enjoyed receiving it, but it is the truth, and I am damned if I will let him  
run out on us now!"

"Extricating him from this particular escapade though, may prove difficult.

The Benari insist that he is guilty of murder. He was arrested, tried,  
convicted and sentenced-all without our knowledge. The first we knew of any  
of this was when Ensign Kim returned from the away mission severely  
dehydrated, suffering from a severe beating, and telling his tail of woe  
concerning Tom."

"I am going down to the planet shortly with Tuvok to see what we can find  
out. We managed to convince the Benari that as his commanding officers we  
have the right to conduct our own investigation. They agreed readily enough,  
with the reiteration that there is no doubt at all of Tom's guilt."

The captain ended her log as the door chime sounded. Turning to the door she  
called, "Come."

"Captain," Chakotay stepped into the room, all duty, and obviously with  
something of import on his mind. "I want to accompany you to the planet," he  
said, standing at attention just inside the doors and Kathryn shook her  
head.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay, we need you here." She watched his face carefully,  
reading every flicker of expression as he took in her words, and held up her  
hands to stay the protest she saw forming on his lips. "You're the best  
officer I have, Commander, and with the Numari on the prowl, I need someone  
here who can defend Voyager if the need arises."

Chakotay seemed to struggle for a moment but eventually capitulated with a  
slight nod. "Yes, Captain." He relaxed his stance a little. "I'd feel a lot  
better about all this if we had Tom here on Voyager. I don't believe that he  
is guilty. I won't believe it. I know him. Tom may be a lot of things, but  
he is no killer."

Kathryn nodded slightly, "Noted Commander, and believe me, we will do the  
best we can, both to establish Tom's innocence - or guilt, and to bring him  
back here to face his punishment, if any." She relented a little. "That's  
the best I can offer you."

"That's all I ask, Captain." Chakotay said softly and then continued in a  
tone so low it was almost a whisper. "He belongs here with - us."

***

Tom lay quietly on the biobed in sickbay, his mind still reeling from all  
that had happened. He furrowed his brow, trying for the hundredth time to  
recall exactly what had gone down on that planet.

He recalled the landing with Harry, and speaking with some minister or  
other, and meeting Wren. _Now there was a pleasant diversion_ Tom felt the  
sides of his mouth twitch in the beginnings of a smile, but he shook his  
head. _Focus, idiot._ He'd spent a pleasant time with the woman. Hey, she  
was a female, and just as bored in her marriage as Tom was with his mission  
by that time. Harry was the one with all the work to do on this one; Tom was  
just there to fly.

He recalled the rainy day that he and Wren had spent together, walking in  
normal gravity, with real rain falling was something Tom hadn't had a chance  
to do since before Auckland, and he'd made the most of every moment, but  
when the gentle drizzle turned to a torrential downpour they dashed for  
shelter.

Drying off, Tom accepted the offer of a cup of tea as he slipped into a robe  
that Wren gave him. He smiled at her as she handed him the cup.

"That was some weather," he said, "I haven't seen rain like that since -  
well, for a long time." He sipped his tea, looking at her over the rim of  
the cup. God's she was beautiful. "Hm! This is good!" Tom sipped again,  
taking a deeper draft of the tea as he moved to a sofa. "I've had a nice  
time today. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"It was wonderful," Wren replied, "Well, at least it was until we got  
soaked." She laughed and moved to sit next to him on the sofa, her fingers  
brushing against his cheek in a gentle caress. "Are you warm enough? Can I -  
help you?"

"That depends," Tom said, turning to her and setting down the empty teacup.  
"What did you have in mind?"

With a seductive chuckle, Wren moved into Tom's arms, pressing her lips to  
his in a passionate kiss.

Tom moaned softly and drew her closer, teasing her lips apart with his  
tongue and letting his hands roam over her curves. She was warm, and tender,  
and it had been too long since Tom held someone. He groaned again, deepening  
the kiss, eyes closed as he gave in to the heady sensations that her touch  
aroused in him.

_And that's where things get fuzzy,_ Tom thought with a sigh. He couldn't  
remember anything from that point on, and he had told the Captain and Tuvok  
everything. _Well, everything up to the cup of tea anyway, no need to kiss_  
 _and tell._

Hard as he tried, Tom just couldn't make his mind recall anything beyond  
that point, and he was certain that had he killed someone, he would  
remember. _After all, I remember killing Charlie, Caroline and --_ but he  
forced his mind away from that. He had enough nightmares to cope with right  
now.

_You hafta give the Benari credit on that one! No one knows as well as I do,_   
_how effective a punishment that is. Reliving the dying moments of your_   
_victim forever._

With a frustrated sigh, Tom rolled to his side. "I didn't do it." He  
murmured. "I wouldn't forget something like that. I didn't do it."

"It is my intention to prove that, Mr Paris." Tuvok's dispassionate voice  
startled Tom out of his reverie and the pilot rolled over to look at the  
Vulcan.

"Dammit, do you have to sneak around like that? You nearly scared me to  
death!"

"I was not 'sneaking around,'" Tuvok replied. "I have come to ask your  
permission to perform a mind meld with you."

"A mind meld?" Tom narrowed his eyes. "What is that going to prove? I  
already underwent the lie detector. I'm telling the truth, Tuvok

"It may not prove anything. However, if I can see with your mind, exactly  
what occurred, it will assist me in my investigations."

Tom sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm not exactly keen to live through that  
again," he said softly.

"I understand your reticence, Lieutenant, and if it were not necessary, I  
would not ask this of you."

With a sigh, Tom nodded slightly. "All right. Let's get this over with."

***

Kathryn Janeway sat behind the desk in her ready room, going over reports  
detailing repairs after Voyager's brief encounter with the Numari. She  
sipped occasionally from a steaming mug of coffee.

The ship had taken a beating in the fight, but the damage was almost all  
under control. Repair crews were working efficiently to restore all systems  
to optimal performance. She set one padd aside, and picked up another as the  
door-chimes rang.

"Come." Kathryn looked up from her work as the door slid open and her chief  
security officer walked in. He seemed pale, but composed as he moved to  
stand in front of her desk.

"Lieutenant Paris did not commit the crime of which he is accused," Tuvok  
stated levelly.

"Are you sure?" the Captain was on her feet in an instant. "How do you  
know?"

"I am positive, Captain, and I will detail the how and why of it when we  
return to the Benari Home world."


	15. Chapter 15

Chakotay paced the floor in his office; a deep frown marring his handsome face as he debated with himself over what he was considering.

_I need to speak to him about this sometime,_ he thought, and yet there was a part of him that would rather not see Paris at all. Innate pride and stubbornness, the traits that often helped him to keep a firm resolve as a commander, but they could also become weaknesses when action was called for.

Stopping by the viewport, the commander sighed softly. _I know he will use this as an opportunity to smirk,_ he told himself. _But I can't just go on as if nothing has happened._

Chakotay allowed his mind to go back to the events at Benari prime and closed his eyes for a moment. The thought that Tom may be forced to stay behind on that planet to serve his sentence for the murder had almost driven Chakotay insane.

For the three days that Tom's future hung in the balance, the Native American Commander had become almost impossible to live with. Those of his crew who knew him and had seen that particular mood before were wise enough to give him as wide a berth as possible.

The Starfleet crew members were not as fortunate, and several of them still smarted under the effects of chance encounters with the commander during that time.

"I can't lose him," Chakotay muttered. "I can't let him slip away from me again."

Turning on his heel, he walked into the hallway.

\-----

Tom was off duty and confined to quarters to rest on doctor's orders. The EMH and Julian had removed the memory engrams of the murdered Benari scientist before too much neural damage had been done, but the pilot had been left slightly weak and disoriented after his ordeal.

It was a relief though, not to have to relive the murdered man's dying moments over and over. Tom owed Tuvok a lot, and it was a debt the pilot was not inclined to forget.

He lay on the sofa in his living area, reading a novel and started slightly as his door chimes sounded. 

Raising an eyebrow, he sat up, laying the padd aside. "Come in?" he called.

"Chakotay!" Tom struggled to his feet, quickly as the first officer stepped into the room. Instinctively, his hands went behind his back as he snapped to attention.

"Tom, this is not a formal visit," Chakotay said softly, waving him back to his seat. "Mind if I sit down?" 

Tom sank back down on the sofa. "Not at all." He regarded the commander steadily for a moment. "What's on your mind?"

"I -- I needed to -"

Tom frowned; he had never seen Chakotay fumble for words. It was slightly unnerving, but even more unnerving was that the commander decided to take a seat next to him on the sofa rather than one of the other chairs in the room.

He swallowed and restrained the instinct to shrink back into the corner of the seat, but his heart beat uncomfortably, and he clasped his hands together to still their trembling. He had not been this close to Chakotay for a while, and the effect the man's presence had on him was still as intoxicating as it had always been.

"Chakotay," Tom said, "is everything all right?"

The commander sighed and lifted his gaze to Tom's face. "I needed to tell you I'm glad you're back." He paused a moment, seeming to search for words. "When I thought that you might be held on Benari Prime I…"

"Aw come off it, Commander." Tom snorted softly. "It would have been the perfect solution to all Voyager's problems, wouldn't it? You'd have your doctor, and you'd find someone else to fly the ship-Even I know I'm not indispensable, Chakotay."

"No, Tom, just listen to me, hear me out." Chakotay sighed and passed a hand across his eyes. "I never believed for one moment that you were guilty of that murder. I have said some damned stupid things about you in the past, but I know you're not capable of murder."

"Thanks." Tom's tone conveyed the surprise he genuinely felt. "I'm glad someone had faith in me." He smiled at Chakotay and then looked away. "I don't blame the Captain, or anyone else for believing that it was possible. I mean, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch, would it? She could be forgiven for thinking I murdered that man to buy myself a ticket off the ship."

"I don't think she believed it either, Tom."

Tom shrugged. "I don't know. She was pretty mad with me when she came down to that planet."

"Being angry doesn't equate to belief in your guilt, Tom."

"Maybe not…" Tom said reluctantly, "but where I come from, it usually did."

Chakotay studied the pilot in silence for several moments, and then tentatively reached out to gently touch Tom's shoulder. "The rules are different here, Tom."

At the ghost of a touch on his shoulder, Tom started and quickly turned to look at Chakotay. "Please-" he gulped, his eyes searching Chakotay's face intently.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Tom," Chakotay murmured. "I'll never hurt you again. I promise." Gently, he drew the pilot into his arms. "I-I love you, Tom."

Tom closed his eyes with a sob as the words he had longed to hear were spoken. Melting against Chakotay's chest, he surrendered himself to the kisses that rained down, parting his lips for the searching tongue that probed his mouth, and praying that he would never wake up again. He knew this was a dream; it had to be. Chakotay would never unbend enough to admit to feelings for him.

With a soft, purring growl of desire Chakotay pulled Tom even closer against him, he almost didn't dare to believe this was really happening. He had not expected Tom to drop his defences so easily, and he hungrily devoured the sweet, responsive lips that met his own.

Tearing his mouth away from Tom's after a moment, Chakotay looked into the deep blue eyes of the younger man. "I'm sorry for-so many things," he said softly. "I treated you like…"

"No, Chakotay, don't say it," Tom pleaded, lifting his face for another kiss. "Don't say anything."

Chakotay rubbed his thumb across Tom's lower lip, then swooped and claimed his mouth again, pushing the pilot back into the sofa and covering his body with his own. "I need you Tom. Now!"

Tom moaned softly and wrapped his arms around the Commander's neck, pulling him close as they lost themselves in the exploration of each others bodies.

\-----

Tom woke early the next morning. He stirred under the covers, delighting in the warmth and then smiled as he realized that he was literally enveloped in the warm arms of his commanding officer. He rolled to face Chakotay, and pushed up on one elbow, gazing down at the other man's face.

In repose, Chakotay's forehead lost the lines of worry that so often seemed etched into it. His breath came lightly between his parted lips, and Tom could catch just a glimpse of strong white teeth behind them. He smiled and lifted a finger to trace across the man's lower lip, watching as Chakotay stirred and blinked his eyes open.

"Good morning," Tom purred, "sleep well?"

Chakotay smiled sleepily and reached for Tom, pulling the slender body on top of his own. "Like an innocent," he said with a chuckle.

Tom laughed. "Innocent? I don't think so. Not after last night's efforts." He stretched out on top of the Native American and ground his hips suggestively. "Care for a repeat performance?"

"There's nothing I'd like more," Chakotay said, returning the pressure of Tom's hips with his own for a moment, "but I have to get ready for work."

Tom sighed softly and was answered by a gentle chuckle from his partner. "No pouting, Tom. You'll be back at work before you know it. Now, let me up huh?"

"Yeah I know, but what am I going to do with myself all day? It's boring here, Chakotay." Tom reluctantly rolled to the side and allowed Chakotay to get out of bed. "It's not like I get a swarm of visitors."

"You'll be fine, and I will come back tonight…" Chakotay glanced at Tom and sent him a winning smile. "If you'll…" His words were cut short by the sound of the doorbell, and he raised an eyebrow. "Well, it seems you've got a visitor after all."

"I'm not expecting anyone." Tom got off the bed and reached for a bathrobe, slipping it on as he moved towards the door. He tied the belt of his robe as he stepped into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. "Come."

Julian Bashir stepped into the room at Tom's call, and Tom frowned. "Julian? What are…"

"Relax, Tom. I've just come to check in on you and see how you're doing." Julian held up the medikit he carried and smiled. "It's a formal visit."

"Oh." Tom moved to the sofa and sat down. "You really didn't have to come up here, I could have come to the sickbay." He cast a swift glance towards the bedroom door then returned his attention to Julian.

"It's no trouble at all," Julian said, his eyes briefly followed Tom's glance at the bedroom and he frowned. "I won't take a minute." As he spoke he took a tricorder out of the medikit and activated it, running it over Tom as he watched the readout on the small screen." 

"How are you feeling? Any dizziness?"

"A little," Tom said, "Less than there was yesterday."

"Good. Headaches?"

"No." Tom shook his head.

With a smile, Julian switched off the tricorder. "Everything looks fine," he said softly, "you should be fit to return to work by tomorrow."

"Great!" Tom's smile was genuine. "I'm going crazy cooped up here."

"Oh I find that hard to believe," Julian said, "if I know you, you've been holding court here every day with all your off duty friends.

Tom snorted. "Then it seems you don't know me as well as you thought." He couldn't keep the edge of sarcasm from his voice, and he stood up, moving away from Julian. "Look, if you've finished-I'm feeling a little tired." Tom didn't want Julian to still be there when Chakotay got out of the shower. "I think I'll go back to bed."

Julian placed the tricorder back in the medikit and nodded slightly. "I'm done," he said. "I'll get out of your way." 

There was a hint of hurt in the doctor's tone but Tom did his best to ignore it. "Thanks," he murmured as Julian passed him on the way to the door.

As he stepped into the hallway, Julian Bashir frowned. He turned to look at the now closed door, his hazel eyes narrowed. _Who is in there, Tom? Who were you with last night? I know that look you have the morning after-trust me, I will find out_ _who your lover is; and when I do, he will be sorry._


	16. Chapter 16

**The same day as chapter 15," early evening.**

"You must take me for an idiot, Tom!" Julian Bashir slammed the tricorder  
down on a table in his quarters. "You know enough about medicine to know  
that your - actions of last night would show up on a tricorder!

The doctor paced restlessly, hands behind his back as he fumed over the  
readings. The traces of seminal fluid in Tom's body were unmistakable. Added  
to the overall demeanour of the pilot when Julian checked in on him that  
morning, it served to drive him into a fury. He felt one of the blinding  
headaches that had plagued him since Academy coming on and he couldn't  
afford to medicate for it.

"I need my every faculty about me right now," he muttered. "I need to  
think..."

Whilst the readings could tell him that Tom had been sexually active, they  
stopped short of revealing with whom. To determine that, Julian would need  
to take swabs and he knew that was not a possibility. He let out a  
frustrated sigh and resumed pacing the floor. There had to be some way that  
he could find out who Tom had slept with.

"I am so sick of your damned infidelities. You know how much it hurts me  
when you go to someone else." Julian bit down on his lower lip. "I try so  
hard to give you the space you need. I really do try, I wait around for you,  
moping in the hopes that you will spare me even a glance, and this is the  
thanks I get. No more!" Turning to look at the tricorder lying on the table,  
Julian shook his head. "No more, Tom!" he picked up the device and stared at  
the readings for a moment before he dropped it to the floor and ground the  
screen to powder with the heel of his boot. "It stops now!"

 

~~*~~

 

The object of Julian's wrath, was, at that moment, putting the finishing  
touches to a table for two in his quarters.

Tom smiled softly to himself as he lit a tall, blue candle and made some  
final adjustments to the place settings. He was expecting Chakotay to join  
him any minute. The commander had suggested dinner before he left for his  
shift that morning, saying that there were some things he wanted to talk to  
Tom about.

Tom gave a small nod of satisfaction and moved to the counter where a food  
warmer waited, containing the food he was planning to serve. He'd replicated  
mushroom soup for entrée and a vegetarian stew for main course. He hadn't  
decided on dessert yet, thinking it would be best to leave that choice up to  
Chakotay.

He took an appreciative wiff of the food and replaced the lid. Everything  
was ready. Now all he needed was for the guest of honor to arrive.

As though on cue, the doorchimes sounded and Tom turned to face the  
entrance. "Come," he called softly, his eyes lighting with anticipation as  
the door slid open and the commander stepped into the room. "Hi."

"Tom." Chakotay smiled and moved across the room, to give Tom a light kiss  
on the cheek. "How was your day?"

"Just as boring as I thought it would be," Tom replied, "but it's better now  
that you're here."

Chakotay smiled slightly, and then took hold of Tom's hand, and led him to the  
sofa. "Come sit with me a while," he said quietly. "We need to talk some  
things through."

Sitting next to Chakotay on the sofa, Tom snuggled close, resting his head  
on Chakotay's shoulder and breathing a deep sigh, "okay," he said. "What do  
you want to talk about?"

Gently pushing Tom away a little Chaoktay looked into the pilot's eyes.  
"Us," he said. "The past. Things that we need to resolve."

"Oh." Tom lowered his eyes. He had known this would come, but hoped that it  
wouldn't be so soon. He sighed softly. "All right," he murmured, "but I don't  
know why we have to drag over all that again, it's history."

"No, it's not, Tom. There are things I did--things I regret, that we've  
never had the opportunity to resolve."

Tom didn't speak. He kept his eyes averted, not daring to look up. He knew  
very well what things Chakotay was talking about. He closed his eyes as the  
memory of that night returned. "Oh gods," he whispered, "please don't do  
this, Chakotay."

"Don't you see, Tom? We have to talk about this. I raped you. It's  
inexcusable, unforgivable, we can't just let that lie between us and go on  
as though nothing happened!"

"Why not? I'm happy to forget it!" Tom was angry, and he leaped to his feet,  
"I'm happy to let it go, Chakotay, I don't need to talk it out. It was three  
years ago! Ancient history."

"If that's the case, then why are you so defensive about it?" Chakotay stood  
up too, catching hold of Tom's arms. "Listen to me, Tom! I can't let this  
fester any longer. I need to talk about it, and I think you do too. Spirits!  
You should hate me! You should-"

"NO! I don't hate you. I don't!" Tom wrenched his arms free, and stared into  
Chakotay's eyes. "I don't hate you. I never have, and I can't."

"Can't?" Chakotay pounced on the word like a wolf on prey. "You want to  
though, don't you? You have tried to."

"Yes." Tom choked and turned away. "I wanted to-I truly wanted to hate you,  
but I don't. I just wish that it hadn't happened." His shoulders slumped as  
though exhausted.

"Talk to me, Tom," Chakotay stepped forward and put his hands on the pilot's  
shoulders, gently turning him around to face him. "I'm sorry for what I did.  
When you left, I told myself it was no more than I deserved. You had every  
right to betray me; I betrayed your trust, abused you; why shouldn't you  
give me up to Starfleet?"

"I didn't sell you out, Chakotay. I would never have done that, regardless  
of what happened between us. All the time I was in prison, I prayed for a  
chance to tell you that it wasn't me-I could have told them everything,  
tipped them off to where you were and walked free. Gods know my father has  
the power to make it happen; but I wouldn't talk."

Chakotay stared into the pleading blue eyes of Voyager's chief pilot in  
stunned silence. It had never occurred to him in all the years since Tom  
left, that anyone other than the pilot could have arranged for  
the Enterprise and those Cardassian ships to be waiting for him when they  
left the badlands.

"What are you saying? One of my crew sold us out?" but even as the question  
left his lips, Chakotay knew. "Tuvok!"

"Yeah." Tom looked down at the floor. "I suppose it was him, who else? He  
was probably also the one who knocked me on the head and set me adrift in  
that escape pod. I knew him, and he couldn't afford for me to blow his  
cover."

Something dark kindled in the depths of Chakotay's eyes for a moment, and  
the Commander turned away to pace the floor. Tom could see that the Native  
American was struggling with a fit of rage, and he held his tongue, letting  
it dissipate a little before he went on. "He had a job to do, Chakotay. It  
doesn't matter anymore."

"You're right." Chakotay shook his head. "What matters now is getting home,"  
he ended with a sigh.

"I was a fool. I allowed so many things to cloud my judgement." Chakotay turned and looked at Tom. "Can you forgive me, Tom?" His dark eyes glinted in the candlelight and a silence stretched between them for several heartbeats.

Tom sighed. "I forgave you a long time ago." He moved forward, reaching for Chakotay, and slipping his arms around the man's waist. "I love you," he whispered.

Drawing in his breath, Chakotay stared into the younger man's clear blue eyes. He swallowed hard, acutely aware of the gift that Tom had given him. That Tom could forgive him so readily was a thing of wonder to him. Chakotay raised a hand to caress Tom's cheek, "I don't know what to say, I-gods. Thank you Tom." Slowly he pulled the blonde man closer, bending to claim his lips in a lingering, tender kiss.

Tom clung to Chakotay, eyes closed as he gave himself up to the tender possession of warm, firm lips that crushed his own. When Chakotay finally broke the kiss, Tom looked into his eyes, still held in the Native American's strong embrace. "Are you hungry?" he asked with a smile. "The soup's getting cold."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the time leading up to the Voyager Episode "State of Flux" it fits because IMO if Seska could conspire to give federation technology to the Kazon, then what's to stop her conspiring against Tom Paris as well. It was no secret she despised him (and all Starfleet personnel) in the series.

**Voyager: Sickbay**   
**Time: 0100 hours**

Julian Bashir straightened his back and stretched his aching muscles. He had been bent over this worktable for too long and his back and head ached intolerably. Setting down the laser tool he'd been using, Julian picked up the small, round device off the table and turned it over in his fingers a few times. 

The Neuro Somatic device had taken him weeks to perfect, and he was well aware that he held the key to his future in his hand. It would have been done much sooner, had Julian not had to contend with the altogether too nosey EMH. Consisting of a modified Cortical Stimulator, the device was small enough to conceal in the palm of his hand, yet, when it was applied to the intended recipient, Julian knew, it would change things between himself and Tom. He would finally have control of the pilot, and then he could implement the rest of his plan.

"Soon, Tom," Julian murmured, "soon you and I will be together again. You will remember how much you love me, and all will be as it should." The doctor smiled and slipped the tiny device into a pouch, which he put into his pocket for safekeeping.

With a glance at the chrono on the sickbay wall, Julian walked towards the doors. He hummed softly to himself as he went, his only task now was to get Tom alone long enough to apply the Neuro somatic device and activate it. A part of the plan meant getting Tom off the ship, but Julian had already arranged for that to happen.

It had not taken long for Julian to discover, after joining Voyager, that there were certain members of the crew who would be just as happy to get the pilot off the ship as Julian would be to have Tom to himself.

Many discussions had taken place recently about the best way to do so, and Julian was confident that the finely tuned plan would work.

As he passed a doorway, Julian was greeted by a low, feminine voice. 

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes," Julian replied in an undertone. "Are you sure that no one will know about this?"

"Trust me," the Bajoran woman stepped out of the shadows for a moment. "Carey is on Transporter duty, and we're within range. Paris will not know what is happening. Chances are he is asleep. The transporter records will be erased. By the time your precious lover is aware of what's going on, you will have him where you want him." She smiled, her lips curling in an unpleasant expression.

"Thank you." Julian smiled and continued along the hallway towards the transporter room.

"No…" Seska murmured as she watched the doctor walk away. "Thank _you,_ Doctor."

~~*~~

 

**Voyager: Tom Paris' Quarters.**   
**Time 0730 Hours**

Chakotay yawned and stretched luxuriously rolling to his side as he slowly wakened from a sound sleep. He smiled as vague memories of the previous night returned to his consciousness. _I have to be the luckiest man alive on this ship right now._

Since the night that he and Tom had talked over the past, their relationship had grown even stronger. Chakotay spent two nights out of every week in the Pilot's quarters and they had made no secret of the relationship from the rest of the crew. Chakotay sighed happily and reached out, seeking the warmth of Tom's body and encountered cold sheets.

"Tom?" he called, but received no response. With a chuckle, he got out of bed and moved to the bathroom door. "Are you so keen to go to work, that you can't even wish me a proper good morning?" Chakotay slid the door open and leaned his head into the room. It was empty.

"Tom!" Chakotay's smile faded as he walked into the living area, to find it empty as well. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris."

"Lieutenant Paris is not aboard," the computer stated dispassionately.

"What?" Chakotay turned on his heel and moved back into the bedroom. "Tom! This is not funny!" he said sternly. "Quit playing games!"

With a shake of his head when there was no response, Chakotay picked up his com pin off the bedside. "Chakotay to Paris. Respond!"

"Lieutenant Tom Paris is not aboard." The computer repeated.

"Dammit!" Chakotay slapped the pin. "Chakotay to Janeway…"

"Janeway here, go ahead."

"Captain, I can't locate Tom Paris."

On the bridge, every crewmember within earshot glanced up at the commander's report.

Janeway frowned. "Computer, state the whereabouts of Lieutenant Tom Paris," she said quietly.

"Lieutenant Tom Paris is not aboard USS Voyager." 

*"Chakotay," Kathryn said, "com B'Elanna and meet Tuvok and I in the conference room as soon as possible.* 

*"Yes, Captain. Chakotay out."*

**Voyager: Conference Room**   
**Time: 0856 hours**

Kathryn paced, her hands resting on the small of her back, in her characteristic-pondering attitude.

"So, we have one missing pilot, with no trace of how he got off the ship. No equipment is missing that has been reported. All shuttles are accounted for…in fact, it would seem as though Tom has simply vanished, without a trace," she summarized.

"Appearances can be deceptive, Captain." Tuvok said. "I will check all internal and external sensor logs for any irregularities," he added.

"Good." Kathryn turned to Chakotay. "You didn't notice anything? He didn't get up during the night? Make any noise?"

"Nothing." Chakotay frowned deeply. "I would know if he had."

"All right. B'Elanna, I want you to work with Tuvok on those sensor logs," the captain glanced at her engineer as she gave her orders then turned back to Chakotay. "We will go to Tom's quarters and see if there is anything there that would give us a clue to his wherea…"

*EMH to Captain Janeway…* The holographic doctor's voice cut across her words.

"Doctor, I am a little busy right now," the captain said, "can this wait?"

*I am afraid it can't, Captain.* The EMH's voice was insistent. *I am unable to locate Doctor Bashir.*

Janeway looked at her assembled officers and frowned. "When did you last see him, Doctor?" 

*At 1645.34 yesterday, Captain,* the doctor replied. *We had just finished a series of experiments and the doctor told me I may as well shut down, since there was little else to be done. I complied and…*

"Thank you doctor," the captain broke in. "Is there anything missing from sickbay?"

*I haven't made an inventory, Captain, but I can do so…*

"Good, do it, and report to me as soon as you know anything." Janeway paused and then added. "It seems Lieutenant Paris is missing also."

When the doctor cut the com signal, Janeway turned to the three officers in the conference room. "Alright, you have your orders. Let's get on it, I want to get to the bottom of this."

Tuvok and B'Elanna nodded and turned to leave the room, and Kathryn fell in with Chakotay as he moved into the hallway that led to Tom's quarters on deck two.

"I don't like this, Chakotay," she muttered. "I was prepared to think that Tom may have decided to make good on his threats to leave Voyager, but now that Bashir is involved as well, I am rethinking that. Bashir is the reason Tom wanted out in the first place."

Chakotay nodded without speaking. He swallowed the sick feeling that had begun to grow in the pit of his stomach, forcing himself to focus on the job at hand. He couldn't allow himself to think even for a moment, of what might be happening with Tom right now. The only thought in his mind was finding the pilot and bringing him home, with or without Julian Bashir.


	18. Chapter 18

Planet: Rinna 3

Two Days after Dark Intent

 

Tom woke slowly. His head ached and he groaned softly, moving his head from side to side a little, trying to ease the ache. The movement only made things worse and Tom whimpered, wondering what had hit him.

 

"Tom?" a gentle voice spoke nearby, but the pilot was unable to force his eyes open. He turned his head slightly in the direction of the voice.

 

"Julian, is that you? "What happened?"

 

"It's alright, Tom," Julian took hold of the blonde man's hand. "You've been ill, do you remember? You had a fever."

 

Tom sighed. "It's all fuzzy..." he said, "I can't remember much."

 

"Don't push yourself sweetheart," Julian bent down and kissed Tom on the cheek. "There's plenty of time. We're on vacation, and I am going to see to it, that you regain your strength." As he spoke, he ran a tricorder over the other man, nodding in satisfaction to see that the Neuro somatic device was functioning normally.

 

He patted Tom's hand. "You're doing fine, Tom. Try to rest."

 

"All right," Tom murmured. He didn't feel strong enough to disagree right now, and his mind would not focus on anything other than fragmented memories of becoming ill just after he and Julian were married. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, drifting back to sleep within moments.

 

Julian sighed with relief and turned away from the bedside. Allowing his mind to trace back over the events of the past two days. It had been harrowing in some ways, and Julian was glad that Tom was finally settling.

 

Tom was asleep when Carey beamed him into the transporter room, but he woke before the transfer to the Kazon ship was made and it took all of Julian's strength, combined with that of Dalby to hold Tom on the transporter pad and keep him quiet until they were beamed aboard the other ship.

 

Once there, Julian wasted no time, he loaded a hypospray with a strong sedative whilst two Kazon subdued the still struggling pilot. The drug had the desired effect and Tom slumped unconscious within moments.

 

Fortunately the Kazon vessel was equipped with a passable infirmary, and Julian worked to implant the device while Tom slept and they made the 7-hour journey to Rinna 3, a small M class planet.

 

Julian was pleased that Tom seemed to accept his story about a fever and illness. It meant that the Neuro somatic process was progressing well. By the time he fully came 'round, Tom should have no memory of Voyager, or of Chakotay. As far as Tom's mind would know, he had lived on Rinna with Julian for the last three years. He would know only that he had come to Rinna with Julian to start a new life together after he was released from Prison.

 

Julian smiled to himself as he glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping man. {We'll be together now, and forever, darling. No one will ever take you away from me again.}

 

 

Voyager Day 2

Conference Room

0800 hours.

 

Tuvok stood at the head of the conference table, his expression more solemn than usual as he brought up a display of the ship's sensor logs for the other officers in the room to view.

 

"Lieutenant Torres and myself discovered the discrepancy yesterday," he said. "Whoever altered these logs went to great lengths to avoid detection but we can safely say that Lieutenant Paris and Doctor Bashir would appear to have been abducted by the Kazon.

 

B'Elanna shook her head, breaking in on Tuvok's words. "Not necessarily abducted," she said softly, "How did they gain access to the transporters?"

She turned to look at Chakotay. "Someone on the ship had to be involved in this!"

 

"I agree," Chakotay nodded, glancing momentarily at the Captain. "The Kazon must have had assistance from inside Voyager. It would be too difficult for them to gain access to the ship's systems otherwise. We can't rule out the possibility that Doctor Bashir kidnapped Tom."

 

"I intend to investigate all of these angles," the captain replied. "Tuvok, go on."

 

With a slight nod, the security officer turned to indicate a point on the external log.

 

"The Kazon vessel must have waited, cloaked to intercept Voyager. It uncloaked... here," he pointed to a point on the screen, "for sufficient time for the transport to take place."

 

Pressing a button, Tuvok switched to the internal logs. "Here is the record of the transport. It is on a narrow beam, so as to be easier to conceal."

His eyebrows drew down for a moment. "If crewmen from this ship were involved, we have a serious breach of security on our hands, Captain."

 

Chakotay clenched and unclenched his fists, gritting his teeth to keep from snarling at Tuvok. He knew that the Vulcan security officer would proceed at his own pace, regardless of how impatient Chakotay was, and a part of his mind acknowledged that the thoroughness of Tuvok's methods was warranted. They couldn't afford to miss a single detail of the events leading up to Tom's disappearance. Drawing a deep breath, he let it out slowly. {If ccrew from this ship are involved, I will personally break each and every one of their damned necks!} Chakotay thought savagely.

 

"Do we have any clue to where the Kazon ship went?" Chakotay asked, forcing his voice to remain level.

 

"We are attempting to isolate the ship's signatures, Commander," Tuvok replied. "However with a cloaked ship, that task can prove difficult, if not impossible."

 

Kathryn stood up. "Alright, we need to move on this as soon as possible, we've already lost two days. Tuvok, I want you to question everyone who was on shift the night Tom and the Doctor disappeared." She looked at B'Elanna. "Keep going over those sensor records, we need to get a fix on that Kazonvessel. Chakotay, you and I will attempt to contact Jabin." She sighed softly. "Not that his history gives me any reason to expect he will help us, but I am willing to try anything."

 With one last look at her officers, Kathryn nodded. "Let's go."


	19. Chapter 19

Planet Rinna

Day 6

 

The sun shone down from a clear blue sky, and a light breeze rustled the tall grass around the cottage. Tom stretched out full length on a lounge, basking in the sunshine, eyes closed, hands folded behind his head.

 

Reaching for the glass of cool liquid at his side, Tom picked it up and took a long sip of the sweet fluid. He looked up and smiled as Julian approached him. "Hi," he said, flashing a welcoming grin. "Lunch time already?"

 

Julian laughed, moving to stretch out on a lounge set next to Tom's. "No. You looked so content out here, I thought I would join you for a while." He reached over and traced a finger across Tom's lower lip. Enjoying the sunlight?"

 

With a small nod, Tom nipped at the tip of Julian's finger playfully.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, sucking the doctor's finger into his mouth. "'S'nice," he added, lathing his tongue across the pad of Julian's finger.

 

"You, are altogether too mischievous for your own good, Thomas!" Julian gently extricated his finger and rolled off the lounge to come to his knees at Tom's side. Leaning over he captured Tom's smiling lips with his own.

 

They kissed for several moments before Julian pulled away, gazing into Tom's eyes. "I love you," he whispered. "I'm so happy."

 

"Me too," Tom replied, reaching up to smooth a hand through the doctor's wavy dark hair. He paused for a moment, a shadow flickering in the depths of his eyes. "Julian, who do we know that plays the clarinet?"

 

"I can't think of anyone," Julian said. "Why do you ask?"

 

"I... I just was wondering," Tom said, "I keep thinking that..." He sighed. "I don't know; it just seems that I know someone who plays it."

 

Julian chuckled. "Well, if you do, it must be someone I haven't met, or perhaps it is just an old childhood memory coming back to you. You know that the fever affected your long term memory," he smiled. "You shouldn't trouble yourself over things, the memory will come when the time is right." 

"I guess you're right," Tom closed his eyes for a moment, "It's just frustrating, not being able to recall anything beyond 6 years ago...and sometimes I am so sure that there are more recent memories missing." Opening his eyes, he looked into concerned gaze of his husband. "And there are the dreams. They seem so real...are you sure we've never been to Marseilles?"

"Positive, sweetheart." Julian smoothed Tom's hair. "You know the mind can do strange things. "I've had some dreams that I could swear are real events." He bent to kiss Tom again. "I think you should come inside and get some rest, hmm? You've been out here all morning."

Tom nodded. "Alright. I think that might be a good idea." He pushed himself up off the lounge and walked towards the house, but after a few paces he stopped. "Harry!" Tom turned to look at Julian his eyes alight with triumph. "Harry plays the clarinet!" 

"Harry?" Julian was immediately on the alert. This was not a good sign, Tom should not recall anyone from his days on Voyager, and the name Harry struck a chill to Julian's heart. It meant that the device was somehow failing to mask all of Tom's higher neural functions. "Who's Harry?" he asked. 

"I don't know, but I know his name is Harry...Harry...King or something similar." Tom frowned with concentration. "Harry," he murmured as though testing the name on his tongue.

"Come on!" Julian got up and walked over to Tom, taking him gently by the arm. "No more racking your brain for today, I want you to get some sleep." He gently guided the pilot into the house. {I will need to check the device again,} he thought, {it must be malfunctioning.} 

Voyager

Day 6

Evening

 

Seska walked along the hallway on deck two, carefully balancing a tureen of soup on a small tray. She smiled to herself as she approached Chakotay's door. The commander had been less than cheery lately, since the disappearance of the pilot and Doctor Bashir, and she happened to know that Chakotay loved mushrooms. When she had found them on the planet, her mind had immediately leaped to making soup for him. 'To cheer him up.' When the mushrooms were taken and put into the ship's supply stores, Seska had little choice but to go along, yet that hadn't prevented her from coming up with a way to get hold of the ingredients later.

Juggling her tray to keep it balanced, Seska rang the door chime and waited for Chakotay to call for her to enter.

"Hot soup for the wounded hero," she said as the doors slid open. "It's mushroom, your favourite."

Chakotay smiled, appreciating the gesture. "Come in," he said waving her into the room. He moved about, collecting a couple of bowls and spoons, then came back to the table. Chakotay had to admit it was pleasant to have some company. The past six days since Tom's disappearance had not been easy, in fact, they had been hell if he was completely honest.

He sighed. They seemed no closer to finding out anything about Tom's whereabouts. The Kazon, Maje Jabin had refused point blank to even discuss assisting them in their search, claiming to have no knowledge of any Kazon Valdiz ships encountering Voyager for any purpose.

"Perhaps the Kazon Nistrim have your men. If that is the case, we will not assist you. We do not communicate with them, unless it is in battle."

"Hey!" Seska's voice brought Chakotay back to the present with a jolt. 

"Sorry," Chakotay smiled apologetically. "I was miles away."

"I could see that," Seska placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of him.

"Here, eat up before it gets cold," she said softly, her dark eyes glinting sympathetically. "This week has been rough on you, huh?"

Chakotay nodded, unable to deny it. "Yes," he said simply.

"Well, I am your official morale officer for this evening," Seska grinned mischievously. "You won't believe what I had to go through to get you this soup! It was a veritable Maquis operation."

"Oh? Chakotay smiled in spite of himself, her smiles and laughter were

infectious and he needed the distraction. "Tell me about it."

"OK..." Seska launched into her tale, regaling him with the details of how Neelix had suggested that the mushrooms may do very well, extended with some disgusting tasting root that he found on the same planet, that she found the mushrooms. "I couldn't believe it," she laughed, "I know you tasted that thing...I wasn't about to let that happen. I told him, 'just plain mushroom soup will be fine,'" Seska's expression darkened. "Of course, he got in a sulk, he said he would consider making the soup later."

Chakotay smiled, taking another spoonful of the soup, which he had to admit, was delicious. "So how did you convince him to make it?"

The Bajoran sighed and met Chakotay's eyes, "The fact is I didn't. Neelix went off to see Kes for a while, so Joannes, and Carey and I broke into the stores and took some of the mushrooms, surely one little tureen of soup is not too much to ask..." She hesitated, looking at Chakotay. "What?"

Chakotay frowned and set the spoon down in his bowl. "You're telling me that you incited other crewmembers to *steal* from the food stores?"

"Lighten up, Chakotay!" Seska frowned. "It's just soup!"

"It doesn't matter what it is. Theft is theft and we can't afford for this kind of thing to go on in our situation." He pushed the bowl away, his appetite dissipating completely. "This is a serious breach, Seska. I'm revoking replicator privileges for everyone involved for two days. That includes myself." 

"Oh come on, you can't be serious!" Seska laughed softly and then her face grew solemn. "You are serious..."

"Very, and if anyone protests my decision, I can arrange for him or her to spend a day or two in the brig. Am I clear, crewman?"

"Perfectly." Seska drew a heavy sigh. "You never used to be so stuffy back on the Liberty," she said. "All this Federation protocol has gotten to you." With a shake of her head, she stepped towards the door. "This ship is decidedly lacking in eligible mates. I may just have to content myself with young Harry Kim." 

"Goodnight, Seska." Chakotay opened the door for her, and then pressed the control to close, and seal it after she stepped into the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, the commander turned to begin clearing the table. He would have to make a full report on this to the captain and it pained him to think that a member of his own crew had gone so far. 

He placed the bowls into the reclaimer, and rinsed the tureen, setting it aside to return it to Neelix in the morning. After cleaning up, Chakotay moved over to the viewport, staring out into space. Somewhere out among the myriad stars and planets, a blonde pilot was lost. Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the wave of despair that threatened to overwhelm him.

The foraging mission they'd been on when Seska found the mushrooms was more than a simple search for food. After Jabin refused to assist them, Janeway had decided to begin a systematic search of all planets in the sector they'd been passing through when Tom vanished.

"They couldn't have travelled far, I can't imagine the Kazon -- any faction -- taking on two Federation officers for very long."

It was a slow, and torturous process. They'd searched two planets so far without success. There were two more remaining. Andra and a smaller, outlying M class planet that Neelix said was called Rinna. "He has to be on one of those two planets. There's no place else they could get to," Chakotay murmured, "Hold on, Tom, we're coming for you, just hold on."  
  



	20. Chapter 20

Recall

Planet Rinna  
Day 14

Tom walked into Sandrine's and made his way to the bar, smiling   
broadly at the red-haired French woman who stood behind the well polished   
counter. He leaned on the bar and met her eyes.

"Bonjour, Tom!" Sandrine moved towards him, leaning across the bar   
to kiss his cheek lightly in greeting. "We have not seen you here for a   
while. I hope everything is all right?"

"Everything is fine," Tom replied, accepting the glass of wine she   
poured for him and taking an appreciative sip. "We've been a little busy   
lately, a few problems with the Kazon." He frowned at that word. It was   
familiar and yet unknown to him at once. He shook his head and laughed. "Whoever   
they are."

"Ah, well, you are here, now, and that is what counts." Sandrine   
wiped the bar with a small cloth as she spoke, then she looked into his   
eyes. "So tell me, where is that jeune homme you brought with you last time you   
visited, what was his name again...Arry, oui! Ensign 'Arry, Kim!" She   
smiled. "I think he was interested in you, mon ami. I saw the way his eyes   
followed you."

Tom almost choked on the mouthful of wine he had taken. Staring at   
Sandrine he shook his head. "Harry, you mean? Harry Kim?" A sudden wave of   
dizziness hit him and Tom had to lean on the bar for support. Something was   
not quite right about the scene. There was a different ambience to the Bistro.  
Something in the background was subtly, yet tangibly different; a   
sound, a vibration or something, a low and steady throbbing that resonated   
through the floor.

Tom closed his eyes. {{I know what that is...}} He pursued an   
elusive nymph of memory. {{I've felt that before I know what it is!}}

"Tom, are you alright?" The voice came from behind him and Tom   
whirled to find himself face to face with a man dressed in star fleet uniform.   
He had dark eyes, and black hair, and his forehead bore some kind of   
marking, or a tattoo he was familiar to Tom, but at the same time, Tom didn't know   
him. He shook his head. "I don't... I don't understand, this is all   
wrong...there's something terribly wrong. Julian! Julian!"

The man in uniform stepped forward and caught hold of Tom's   
arms. "It's all right, shhh I'm here. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you, Tom! Tom!"

"Nooo! Let go of me!" Tom struggled desperately. "Leave me alone!"

"Tom!" The voice was insistent now, the hands, shaking him. "Tom!"

White-hot pain knifed through Tom's head and he screamed. "The   
engrams! Remove the engrams they're going to kill me...I didn't do it...I'm  
innocent." His mind was awhirl with images, faces of people he   
recognized yet didn't know. A woman in captain's uniform, with long blonde hair   
coiled into a severe bun. Another with dark hair, and intense brown eyes,   
her forehead ridged with the distinctive markings of a race he knew as   
Klingon.

He sobbed. Confusion clouded his mind. So many voices all talking at   
once, snatches of conversation as the room spun around him, and through it   
all a voice insistently calling his name over and over.

"Stop...stop it please I... I can't take anymore!" Tom broke free of   
the hands that held his arms and sank to his knees clutching at his head   
as the agony returned. He felt sick to his stomach, the whirling dizzy   
sensation worsening as something inside his head burst with the light of a sun   
going nova. Finally, there was silence. Darkness, peace."

Julian shook Tom again. "Tom! Wake up! Wake up!" He sobbed quietly,   
noting the sudden pallor of the pilot's cheeks, the sudden deathly   
stillness. Releasing Tom's arms he bolted for the other room and returned a few   
seconds later with a tricorder.

The doctor scanned Tom, his own face draining of all color as he   
read the results. "Oh my god...what have I done?" He dropped the tricorder to   
the floor, and gripped Tom's hand in both of his "Tom! Please...you have   
to wake up!"

~~*~~

Chakotay lead his team along the narrow, dusty streets of the   
village they'd been invited to. His eyes were alert; scanning the faces of every   
person they passed, looking out for any sign of the Human doctor, or Tom   
among the sharp, alien faces that crowded the streets.

"Keep sharp," he murmured to B'Elanna, "If what the governor said is   
true Bashir could be here somewhere."

"I'm on it." B'Elanna's voice was almost a low growl as her eyes   
searched the faces around them.

As they passed a small group of people, Chakotay stopped one of them,  
holding up the holographs of Tom and Bashir he had brought with   
him. "Have you seen either of these men?" he asked quietly, shaking his head   
with a sigh, when the alien answered no.

{They are on this planet,} he thought, {Somewhere...they have got to   
be. The description the governor gave us of this "off-worlder" matched Bashir  
perfectly.} He drew a deep breath and moved on to another group.

"Have you seen these men?" The same question over and over, with no   
success.

Chakotay's mind churned with impatience. Someone had to have seen   
them.

"No." The alien he spoke to said, and he made to move on, but a woman  
touched his arm.

"I know him," she said, pointing to the picture of Julian   
Bashir. "He is the healer. He saved my brother's life."

Chakotay's heart seemed to stop for a moment, then took off into an  
unsteady, racing beat that made his breath quicken. "Do you know   
where he lives?" he asked, "Can you show us?"

The woman nodded and gestured for them to follow as she turned and   
began to walk towards the edge of the village.

"Chakotay to Janeway..." The commander hit his com badge as he   
followed the woman.

*Go ahead, Commander." The captain's voice responded immediately.

"We've found someone who claims to know Bashir. She's taking us to   
him."

*Excellent! Keep us posted, Chakotay. Janeway out.*

He could hear the relief in the captain's voice and it was echoed in   
his own heart as they left the village and set out across a grassy plain.

~~*~~

Julian knelt by Tom's side, tears streaming down his face as he   
watched the pilot's still, pale form. Tom had not moved or made a sound in   
almost an hour, and Julian was beginning to think he never would. He'd done   
what he could to try and bring Tom around, using the last of the few meagre   
supplies he'd brought with him from Voyager, but his efforts had been in vain.

Tom's breathing was shallow and unsteady, his pulse, growing   
weaker by the minute. Deep in a coma, Julian knew it was only a matter of time   
before Tom could not be revived. The tricorder told him that the   
Neuro Somatic device had caused a cerebral haemorrhage. Without   
urgent treatment in a proper medical facility, Tom would die.

~~*~~

At the edge of a band of trees, the young woman stopped and turned to  
Chakotay. She looked into his eyes, and then pointed to a cottage,   
just visible across a wide expanse of grass.

"There," she said. "I go no further. He said never to come."

Chakotay nodded to her and waved his team forward. "Thank you." The  
commander said to the woman before he followed, B'Elanna Ayala and   
Joannes.

They made their way rapidly across the grass, and as they neared the  
cottage, Chakotay drew his phaser and charged it. Calling the team   
to a halt, he hunkered down in the long grass. "We don't know what we're   
facing," he said, "I don't want to take any chances. Joannes, B'Elanna, take   
the back. Greg and I will go to the front." He looked at each one in   
turn, ensuring they understood him, and then moved off, quickly running to   
the front corner of the house.

Edging his way along the wall, Chakotay came to a door, which he   
tested with one hand. It swung open easily and he glanced back at Ayala,   
signalling with a movement of his head that they should move inside.

He stood up, and inched his way into the house, glancing around for   
a moment to get his bearings before he flattened himself against the wall and   
began to move towards a doorway on the left.

A movement caught his peripheral vision and he snapped his head   
around, relaxing when he realized that it was B'Elanna and Joannes. He   
nodded to them, and continued to move towards the doorway a few paces away.

Muted sounds reached him from the room, and Chakotay narrowed his   
eyes, holding up a hand to stop his team. He tilted his head to one side,  
listening intently and realized that it was the sound of someone   
crying.

Chakotay went to the door, moving with less caution now as   
the sounds grew louder. He pushed it open, pausing   
for a moment, as his eyes took in the scene in front of him.

Tom lay on a bed in the centre of the room, his eyes closed. Pale and  
deathly still, he was barely breathing and Chakotay's heart   
constricted with fear as his gaze moved to the other man, kneeling on the floor   
with Tom 's hand held in his, weeping quietly.

In an instant, the commander flew into action. He stormed into the   
room and seized Julian Bashir by the shoulders, lifting him and bodily  
throwing him towards the others. "Get him out of here," he snarled.

Taking Julian's place by Tom's side. He reached out and touched the too-cold skin and swallowed against the lump of terror in his throat.

  
{What has he done to you?}

Realizing he could not afford to waste time Chakotay slapped his com   
badge.

"Chakotay to Voyager. Medical alert. Two to beam directly to   
sickbay!"


End file.
